Crash and Burn
by Quill Angel
Summary: "Are you okay?" he asked. "No," I replied, wiping away the blood on my lip. "That's fine. Neither am I. But, unlike you- I know how to remedy that." That's when he bent down and kissed me. I thought Auror Training would be hard compared to the job. That was before they pushed me into the field with nothing but a wand and this arrogant, handsome arse I had to call Sir. (ON HIATUS)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is my first fanfic. Hopefully you guys will like it. This is going to be a multi-chapter story, maybe right around 30 chapters. I have four more chapters lined up, with plenty of plot, but I'll only publish them if I get some reviews! So, please do that. Rated M for future smut. The first few chapters may be slow, but give this story a chance! :)**

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><p>I woke up that morning with a splitting headache. The alarm clock went off as usual- Liam had replaced the acceptable one with a scaly, dragon shaped nightmare that pounced on me at seven every morning and attempted to claw my eyes out unless I jinxed it off my face. I groped for my wand, even as the demonic thing tangled itself in my hair. When I finally blasted it off, it flew right back, hovering in front of my face, watching me threateningly, ready to attack unless I got out of bed. I did, glaring at its yellow eyes. Once it saw me awake, and probably about to strangle its scaly neck, it fluttered back to the nightstand and promptly fell asleep.<p>

I sat on bed for a while, measuring the pros and cons of going back to bed myself, when I suddenly remembered _why _Hopkins (the dragon) had woke me up at this ungodly hour in the first place.

_My job._

I jumped out of bed, (literally) since the covers tangled in my legs and I fell face forward on the floor. Ow. That was going to bruise. No time to heal it. I rushed into the bathroom, and took a hasty shower- trying to get my bearings right. Since I woke up with a hangover most days- courtesy of my brother working at a pub- Liam had taught me this simple procedure to get my firewhisky-addled brain functioning again.

What is my name?

_Angela Woods._

What date is it today?

_Ehm...idk...I have to check the calendar..._

Where am I going right now?

_To the Ministry._

And why am I going there?

_To work._

Ooooh. Right. First day of work. Of couse!

Wait. Hold up. Working? I was working? _I had a fucking job? When the fuck did that happen? A job that PAID me? _I had to suppress the hysterical laughter that was bubbling up in my throat. I was twenty three, holy Circe- I could hardly tell which shoe went on which foot and now I had a job. And an Auror, no less- but- as I constantly reminded myself- I wasn't an auror until I got my licence. The training had been tough- I had known that much. Steve had told me that the training was the worst part, and after that, everything is a piece of pumpkin pasty. I wasn't too sure about that. Steve was my best friend, and being an auror himself, he was able to help me get this job. But most things were easy for Steve, and he rarely complained.

When I ran out of the shower, I was faced with a new challenge. _Clothes. _Oh, how I longed for Steve right now. But he had moved in with his boyfriend- what was his name? Theo-last month and he had left me to fend for myself here. And now, as I stared at the myriad collection of apparel before me, I could feel the world spinning. Ugh. It took me almost twenty minutes- but in the end I settled for a pair of skinny black trousers and a pink shirt. It clashed horribly with my red hair- but I didn't care. I wore simple black robes over it, grabbed my wand, and was about to leave- when I remembered Higgly. Higgly was my kneazle- well, not exactly mine. I had found her four years ago rummaging in the dustbins outside, and all the other cats stayed away from her. She was very fierce, but as soon as she saw me she started rubbing against my legs and meowing like she had never seen someone so beautiful. It was very gratifying- no man meows at me all that much. Steve realised she was a kneazle, and since then she used to chill with us. She comes and goes as she pleases- but she hogs all our food if we don't leave some out for her separately. She's a charming pet.

So I plopped some grilled tuna and half a pumpkin tart in her bowl, and apparated out of there. Of course, _then _I remembered- somewhere in the between destination limbo- that I had forgotten my purse- but I mentally shrugged. Steve would pay for my lunch today. Least he could do was that, considering I had not begrudged him his happy little life with his perfect boyfriend Theo.

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><p>The Ministry had always awed and terrified me, with its huge peacock blue ceiling and the golden statues. And the sheer number of people- the wizards and witches who were actually doing something for the magical community- well. It was enough for anyone o get inspired. And this was the first time the guy at the entry desk didn't check my wand- all I had to do was flash him my Ministry Employee ID card- he scowled like I had just ruined his day by waving the plastic at his face, but I just smiled at him<p>

Steve was waiting in front of the elevators, his blond hair messed up like he had just gotten out of bed. He grinned when he saw me, and as late as I was, I hugged him when I saw him. I hadn't seen him for over a week, which was a record for us.

"Hey, baby!" he said, spinning me around so he could get a look at my outfit. I could give him a coronary with my dress options. He probably thought the same, but he decided to be polite- but then again, even I knew I looked hideous.

"Hi. I'm late." I said, breathlessly.

"Mm. Of course you are. Just stand still for a second, would you?" he waved his wand at my face and I could feel my hair getting magically combed.

"Ugh. _Your hair._ Are you ever going to learn?" he ran his fingers through it, his lips pursed.

"Mmm. Acceptable. Now go."

I grinned, waved, and stepped in with a whole bunch of other wizards and witches that were looking disapprovingly at me like my enthusiasm had offended them personally. I smiled again.

I got off on the third floor, as the annoying female voice from the lift instructed me too. Two other witches got off with me, and headed straight to the left through these huge glass doors- wait- they just stepped through them, like it wasn't even there. _Cool._

But I had to go to 'Katie at Reception' first, and the quiet, plant lined corridor had just one desk in front, where a petite girl with sleek blonde hair was going through a scroll of parchment like it was the cure to spattergoit.

"Erm, excuse me," I said, approaching the desk. She looked at me, her icy eyes taking in my appearance and clearly finding it wanting. She smiled insincerely at me.

"Auror Headquarters. How may I help you?" She rolled her wand between her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Um. Hi. I'm Angela Woods. This is my first day of work. I was told to come to you."

"I see. Miss Woods, please show me your Ministry Employee Card?" I handed it over. She tapped her wand on it, and it glowed green, and I have no idea what that meant, but I'm guessing it was good, because she gave it back to me.

"Okay. Let me just check my list." She checked another scroll, scanned it, scrolled it back up and put it back in her desk.

"Everything seems to be in order. Please follow me, Miss Woods."

We passed through the glass doors, her heels clacking against the wooden floor under her light pink robes. I disliked her immensely. As soon as I stepped through, something hit my eye. "Ow!"

"Oh, sorry," a guy came jogging up to me, and picked up the stupid paper airplane that lay on the ground. "That was supposed to go to Moffic. Sorry again." He grinned at me, bright blue eyes shining, and ran off. I stood for a few seconds, massaging my eye and scowling, when Katie pulled me along. "Come along now, Miss Woods," she said testily. We were walking down another carpeted corridor, but to the other side, I could see a dozen different cubicles, people running around in their robes, and those annoying paper airplanes flying around in different directions. Owls constantly swept in and out of a window right at the top, dropping letters and packages onto the desks. There were puffs of smoke once or twice, and I had no idea where they came from. There was a huge board on the far side of the room, with pictures of people who looked like criminals, most of them holding identification numbers and spitting at whoever was taking the picture. Two women stood in front of it, arguing, angrily poking their wands at the pictures like they were proving a point. This place was _chaos. _I even heard some very inventive cuss words which I noted down.

Another guy came jogging up behind us, and asked Katie, "Princeton. Do you have the list that Richards gave you?"

"I'm busy now. Get back to me in a minute."

"Doxy shit, Princeton, I need it now."

"_Damn it¸_ Carl. I'm escorting Miss Woods to Wolfe's office."

Carl whistled. He grinned and winked at me. "Wolfe, huh? Good luck." His teeth were stark white against his dark skin. "Prince. Hurry up." He jogged away.

"Its madness here."

"You'll get used to it, Miss Woods. Here," she stopped in front of an oak panelled door which had _Daniel Wolfe _engraved on it in silver letters.

She knocked on the door twice, and a voice asked brusquely from inside, "What?"

"Sir, Miss. Woods."

"Who?"

"_Miss Woods._ She's working with- sir, can you please open the door?"

The door swung open, and I stepped inside huge, exceptionally untidy office. There was a huge desk right in front, with rolls of parchment rolling off it, ink bottles that hadn't been closed, quills- there were bookshelves on either side, crammed with old, dusty novels- a couch that was heaped with more books, parchment and even a few articles of clothing. Who the hell-

"Yes, Princeton. What do you want?" I looked at the source of the voice- deep, careful- slightly lilting. He was tall, with a head of shaggy dark hair. He wore a white shirt that had been carelessly tucked into grey pants that hung off his narrow hips- he and lean and wiry- muscle without bulk, and when he looked up, my mouth dried. He was handsome, very handsome- piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones- perfectly sculpted lips. He had sharp, regal features- and a bored expression that instantly told me he didn't think the world was worth his time.

I disliked him almost as much as I disliked the mean girls double standing next to me.

"Actually, sir," I spoke loudly. "I'm Angela Woods. I've been assigned to work with you?"

He seemed to notice me for the first time. His eyes swept me up to down, one short flick that probably told him everything he needed to know about me. He went back to reading whatever he was reading.

"I see," he said coolly. I wanted to bonk him over with something. But of course, I would be fired for that, so I just stood there impatiently.

"Sir. Mr. Richards sent her. I'll be outside if you need me." She blushed slightly as she said the last line, which made me think she didn't meet that entirely professionally. _Hmmm._

He didn't seem to hear what she had to say. Katie walked out, leaving me standing there stupidly, wondering if he was going to put that ridiculous piece of parchment down and realise I was a human being and not a statue.

"Sir?" I said again uncertainly.

"Yes, Miss Woods. I know you're standing there. Take a seat." He gestured to the two chairs in front of his messy desk.

I had to remove a bunch of parchment rolls to the other chair to make space for my butt.

He sat down in front of me, and I could see him more clearly. He was hotter up close- I noticed that his eyes had a bit of grey in them- and he had really long eyelashes, which might have made him look delicate or feminine- but in fact it gave him a kind of gracefulness that seemed at home on that perfect face. But they had dark shadows under them, and he had stubble that was a few days old. It was hardly eight am- but he looked like he had been here all night- with the messy hair, the rolled up sleeves and the loosened tie. He couldn't be more than thirty, tops.

_Delicious._

"Miss Woods. What did you say your name was?" He said, in a tone of detached politeness that was probably how he spoke to everyone.

I snapped out of my reverie. "A-Angela."

"Angela." He rolled the name on the tip of his tongue, and the way he said it made the hair at the back of my neck stand to attention. His eyes were distracting; they light coming from the window seemed to change their colour; from grey to blue and grey again.

"Angela Woods. Yes, Max told me about you."

"Max, sir?"

"Maxwell Richards. Head of the department. You've met him, I'm sure." He steepled his fingers in front of his lips, leaning back against the chair. "Why did you take the job, Miss Woods?" he asked, those piercing eyes boring straight through me.

"I-uh-" his eyes had caught me off guard. _Get a grip on yourself, you whore. _"Why wouldn't I take this job? It's the best chance I have to do something worthwhile, Mr. Wolfe. Everything else pales in comparison to what I could achieve as an auror."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. I had a feeling he didn't smile much. Shame, I'm sure he'd look even hotter.

"A very good answer, Miss Woods." I blushed at his compliment. "I understand that you're very good at what you do, which is why you're here at all- but forgive me- you've seen nothing yet." He smirked, and it was such a sexy smirk that it annoyed me all the more. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "Don't worry though. You won't have to do anything life threatening. Yet." He smiled crookedly, and it wacked all the breath out of me. _Woah._

"Yes...yes sir."

"That being said," he got up suddenly, surprising me. "I'm busy. Meet Blake. He'll tell you what to do. Tell him to brief you on the Franklin murder."

_I'm busy?_

_What the fuck?_

"Erm...but sir..."

"Please don't make me repeat myself, Miss Woods. I detest repetitions," he said distractedly, opening up another roll.

_Here we go again._

"Okay." I got up. "Eh...Blake who?"

"Ryan Blake. Now please leave."

My first instinct of course, towards men like this was slapping them. But even as my fingers twitched towards my wand, I left because I really, really didn't want to end up in Azkaban. But as I walked out into the crazy that was the Auror Office, I mused that if this was who I had to work with, I had a feeling both of us would be there on murder charge soon enough.

**A/N: Yes, I know it's short. Sorry. Future chapters will be longer and they will have more action! I will update weekly. PROMISE. I like reviews. Just sayin'. Until later.**


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan, funnily enough, turned out to be the very guy who's stupid paper airplane had almost taken out my eye.

I was shown to his cubicle hurriedly by Katie, who looked like she was getting bored of me. _Well the feelings are mutual, bitch._

He was standing beside a desk a narrow cubicle, arguing loudly with a woman when I went there.

"Yes, Cass, but we can't bring them here for interrogation without a warrant!"

"But sir, it's clear enough that-"

"We_ cannot _force them, and Veritaserum needs a licence first, and I'll have to get in touch with Wolfe for that-"

I coughed discreetly. He turned around and frowned at me. Then recognition lit up his face and he smiled at me. "Should I apologise again for that unfortunate accident, ma'am?"

"Ehm. No. Mr. Wolfe sent me." I could see him more clearly now, since both my eyes were functioning. He was tall and lanky, pale with bright blue eyes- cute in a scruffy way- his black hair curly and messy, and stubble covered his chin and cheeks- like a bad boy from the wrong side of town. He wore a chequered blue shirt over jeans- his wand sticking out of his back pocket.

"Ah," he smirked, leaning against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "So you're the new girl. Well, look at that, Cass- she's working with Wolfe. Jealous, are you?"

Cass rolled her eyes. She stood up and shook hands with me. "Ignore him. Hi, I'm Cassandra Wilkins. Call me Cass, though." She had bushy brown hair and a cute smile- pretty in an inconspicuous way. I liked her immediately.

"Hey. I'm Angela Woods. You can...er...call me Angie." She laughed.

"Ladies, ladies. Let me introduce myself too," Ryan grinned at me. "Miss. Woods. Ryan Blake, at your service." He held out his hand and extravagantly kissed mine when I held it out for him to shake.

"Now tell me, what did ol' Danny boy want you to ask me?"

"Erm...some case files, I think. And he wanted you to explain the Franklin Murder Case to me?"

"Ah." His expression darkened, and he looked more like the other aurors here- determined, serious- kind of intimidating. "That's a tough one. Me and Cass were discussing it. I head most of the people here, me and Williams-"

"Williams? Steven Williams?"

"Yeah. Why, d'you know him?"

"Know me? Why, Blake, she's in love with me."Someone grabbed me from behind and placed a kiss on my cheek. Ryan laughed, as Steve stood next to him, grinning.

"So I see you've met this idiot," he said.

I grinned. "Yeah, I have. He doesn't seem much of an idiot, though. Much less than you at least."

Ryan laughed and clapped his hand on Steve's shoulder while Steve clutched his heart in mock agony. "That's what I call a burn, mate," Ryan said.

"Okay. Guys. Can we get back to work?" Cass shook us out of our reverie. "Drinks after work is over. We can have fun then."

"Oh, Cass. You keep us on our toes. You should have been the boss. We'd get so much more work done," Steve joked.

Ryan conjured some chairs, and we all sat around it, in the narrow cubicle. He lounged on the chair, and in a slow, steady voice, explained the case to me.

"The funny thing is, it's not a wizard. The only way the perp could have gotten is would be the window, or the chute at top. It's someone small- perhaps a woman. But an incredibly skinny woman, y'know? Which opens up more terrifying possibilities. It could be a goblin, maybe a leprechaun. They'd be the only creatures capable of carrying out something that requires this much of planning. Some of us think it could be the elf- but a house elf? Seriously?" He shook his head in disbelief. "It's a goblin, I wager- which creeps me out some. Creeps all of us out."

"How would he get a wand? Didn't he have protective barriers?"

"Franklin was murdered with his wand on him- so was his wife. He had a kid- fourteen year old girl, went to Hogwarts. Her wand was missing. I'm guessing he stole that. Franklin's eyes were gouged out too- which again points to a non-human entity. That wasn't done by a man. That much is clear. And yes, he did have some sort of defences around his house- which makes it darker. He couldn't have apparated, so he must gotten in physically- which means he had a wand on him _before_ he got in. Then again, it might have been more than one."

Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "This kind of thing- you would understand- we want to keep under wraps. I'm sure you'd get why."

I nodded. "Obviously. It could seriously misbalance wizard-beast harmony. Have you carried out any interrogations?"

"You know how proud goblins are. Accusing any of them for murder?" Cass shook her head. "They'd go on strike. Gringotts would be down for days. It's a very delicate manner. Clive at the Liaisons office isn't being able to do much. They don't want to talk to us at all."

"One of our men works undercover as a curse breaker there," Ryan shrugged. "He's working on finding out what he can. But I doubt it would be that easy. This kind of job wouldn't be carried out by a goblin that mixes with that kind. They're fugitives. Even if they _did _know about it, they'd break off all contact with a creature like that."

"Dan and I went to the house last week, found out what we could. We followed the trail of magic, but it went cold soon. The wand was found at this old shack a few miles east of the murder scene, either he deposited it there on purpose or left it behind. The place had been lived in for a while- but Dan reckons its a trick. They're clever. They would have known we could have tracked them down with what we got there. It was literally nothing."

"So basically we've got no leads?"

Cass shook her head. "It's humiliating. We've been working very hard. But we've got nothing. Nada. Every time we get a lead- _poof._ Like leprechaun gold."

"But what's their motive?" I asked.

"Goblins don't have need a motive for being bloodthirsty," Ryan said bitterly. "They'd kill without any reason."

"But something about the murder makes us suspect that it's not just the act of a deranged nutter. It has a kind of...elegance to it. I can't explain it without sounding mad."

"Can I go to the scene?"

Ryan and Steve exchanged looks. "I wouldn't have a problem," Steve said. But you'll have to ask Wolfe. We can't take you. You're still an apprentice. Since you're under him, he'll do that."

"What's his deal anyway?" I asked, annoyed.

Steve threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, I've forgotten how people react when the first meet him."

"Yeah, but don't the ladies go all weak-kneed and shit? I've seen Cassie herself faint when he passes." Ryan nudged her, to which she pointed her wand at him and turned his nose blue.

"He's attractive, I guess," I said. Of course he was. Hotter than hot. But Steve didn't need to know how handsome I found him. I wouldn't hear the end of it. "But he seems like an arrogant douchebag to me." I shrugged.

"He is," Ryan said, his nose back to normal. "But that's only because he's the best. And he knows it."

"It's annoying," Cass muttered.

"Oh please," Ryan teased. "I bet you find it sexy and everything. But your feelings are universal, Woods. Steve is the only bloke who can stand him. But that's probably because _he _finds him hot too. Wolfe likes him too, I reckon."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I have a boyfriend, you wanker."

"Hardly an excuse." Cass grinned.

"Oh c'mon Stevie. I bet you wonder what a threesome with Wolfe would be like. Him, you and one of the numerous birds he shags every day."

Steve pushed him jokingly. "Why are you so interested? You wanna join?"

"He's _that _sort of a bloke, is he?" I asked, curiously.

Cassie scowled. "No. Ryan is exaggerating. He doesn't shag a woman every day."

"Every week then, I'm sure. I saw some brunette the other day in his office..."

"Oh sod off, Blake. You think about him more than we do, combined. Now get your arse off that chair and finish that file. Wolfe wants it by seven," Steve said.

"Oh _does _he know?" Ryan said sarcastically.

"Stop joking and do it."

"I'm going, I'm _going._" Ryan got up and left with a mock salute to me.

"He seems young to be your boss," I said, after he was gone.

"He's twenty five. Wolfe was twenty one when he was there." Cass explained, gathering up her things.

"Wolfe heads the department right under Richards. I reckon when Richards gets off it'll be him in his place. But there's no one better. That bloke is one hell of an auror," Steve said reverently.

I looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Duh. Have you noticed how young he is? Richards is fifty six, and he was made head when he was close to forty."

I whistled. "He's good then."

Steve grinned. "You'll see how good he is. You know, you have the whole day left. And it's your first day. Get ready, girl. You're in for one helluva ride."

I punched him playfully on his shoulder. "Don't be so dramatic. So, what do I do now?"

In answer, he dumped a bunch of files into my arms. I staggered. "Paperwork, doll. The bane of many an auror. Unfortunately, like the drones, you don't get an office like Blake and me," he winked. "But you'll get one when you get your licence."

"What?" an office? Me?

"Come on, follow me, I'll show you your cubicle."

We waded through the maze of people, owls, parchments and loud noises. Steve had to stop several times because everyone had something to ask him, something to get signed. When we finally reached my cubicle, he took the files and dumped them on the desk.

"You won't have to sit here long, don't worry."

"Really?"

"Of course. You're working under Wolfe. Which means Richards has his eye on you for a better position. Probably another team leader, like me nor Blake."

"That's crazy! Shouldn't I do what Cass is doing?"

Steve snorted. "That's who you are _now._ But they didn't do apprenticeships. Apprenticeships are only given to the ones that need the extra training."

"I didn't apply for that."

He shrugged. "No choice. You'll be offered the position soon enough."

I grinned. "But that's fantastic," I said, disbelievingly.

"Doll, you're talented. Now get your ass moving and finish those files."

"Yeah. Okay." He kissed me on the cheek and left.

I got to work.

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><p><strong>AN: So this was even shorter than the first one. Don't worry! Things will speed up soon and I will be posting longer chapters.**  
><strong>PS: More reviews= faster updates. :D<strong>

**Cheers!**


	3. Chapter 3

Steve picked me up from home next week. Theo was with him too, and he hugged me when I opened the door. His ears stuck out on either side of his head, and his cropped brown hair had grown out a bit more. He was adorable, and yeah, Ill admit it, I had a crush on him when we were in Hogwarts together. Of course, _then Steve announced to the whole world that he was gay and fucked it up. _In my defence, Theo was bi, so I had half a chance, but whatever. Steve was way hotter.

"_Angela Woods._" He whistled. "Look at you. All dressed up."

"Just a dress," I grumbled.

"Just a dress!" Steve gasped. "Honey, that dress would give Deverish and Banges a run for their money, so you shut your mouth." We walked down the street outside, because Theo was hungry and he wanted a croissant.

"So, Woods. How's the new job treating you?" he asked as we stepped inside the cafe.

"It's hella hard, Theo. And my boss is a nutter."

"Stevie, does she mean the hottie we met at one of your ministry parties?" Theo turned around, looking at him quizzically.

"Yes, love."

"You're crazy," Theo told me. "I wouldn't mind a few hours locked up in a room with that one."

"Shut it, James," Steve mumbled. He got back at him when he flirted with the girl behind the counter, though.

"He's attractive," I complained for the umpteetnth time, "But that's not an excuse for his behaviour!"

"She's just sore because he works her so hard," Steve said, grinning wickedly. munching into his blueberry muffin. How did he make everything sound so dirty?

I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee. "You're an asshole."

Steve and I left once we were done, after Theo kissed Steve very publicly in the middle of the road. Ugh. Those two and their PDA. I bet Steve did it so I would get jealous that he was dating and go for it myself. What did he expect me to do, grab a bloke off the street and say, "hey, you're cute! Let's shag." I'd rather have my nose jinxed off. (That has happened, though)

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><p>"Morning, Woods," Ryan greeted me, when I went inside my own cubicle. He had his converse propped up against my own desk. I scowled at him, dumping my files on the surface.<p>

"Don't you have your own office?" I asked him, crossing my arms.

"Oh yes, I'm fine. And how are you this fine morning?" he winked at me.

"You're a curse," I mumbled.

He got his feet on the table and grinned at me. "I love you too, baby."

"Get out. Go to your own office. And have you ever heard of a suit? Its what adults wear." He refused to wear anything other than jeans and t shirts to work. It was unnerving, having this teenage look a like order me around. I had to make myself remember that he was older than me, _and _more experienced.

"Yuck. I'd look like Wolfe then."

"Wolfe is hot."

"Baby, I'm on fire." He grinned at me and kissed my cheek, "See ya later. After you get chewed off by Wolfe for being late."

I gasped. "_Curse you._"

Then I ran.

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><p>"Miss Woods, you're late."<p>

"Sorry," I mumbled, stepping in.

Daniel was leaning casually against his desk, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles. He arched a dark eyebrow when I came in, and tried I not to react to his face. How did he manage to look so good in that rumpled up shirt? And don't even get me started on his hair. That sexy mop on top of his head had probably never seen a brush in its entire existence.

"Did you go home last night?" I asked, putting my bag and down on the couch and taking off my coat.

"No," he said. He ran his fingers through his hair, as if that would make it any neater. "I had work to do."

"Why didn't you make me stay?"

"Over work you in the first week of your employment itself, Miss Woods? I'm not a monster."

I rolled my eyes. "You warned me the very first day that you would over work me."

"Ah, I'm ever the altruist." The corner of his lips twirked up in a sarcastic smile.

Suddenly, a huge owl swopped in from the open window, landing on his desk, scattering papers.

"Wow," I whispered, staring at the beautiful bird; it had golden plumage.

She flew up to his shoulder, and I stared in surprise as he delicately stroked her head while he disentangled the letter from her claws.

"Aurora, stay still, love..." he crooned, while he took it away. She nipped his finger affectionately and flew off.

"That your owl?" I asked

"Yes," his voice had returned to it regular, brusque tone. _Oh my god he loves his owl that is so cute!_

He quickly scanned the letter. "Well, Miss Woods," he announced, pocketing it. "I'm taking you out today."

"What? Really?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, really." He reached over and picked up a leather jacket that was draped over his chair and shrugged into it. He looked me over, and said, "You'll need to change. Can you walk in those heels?"

"No. Not really," I said, embarrassed.

"Go change. Be here in five minutes."

Uh, so bossy. I ran out and went immediately to Steve. He looked busy, but I didn't care.

"Steven Williams. I need your help!"

"What's up?" he said distractedly. He was writing something on a sheet of parchment.

"I'm going out," I said breathlessly, leaning over his desk. "What should I wear?"

"Field work?" he said disbelievingly, looking up. "So soon? Cool."

"Babe. What do I wear?"

"Oh. Oh, right. Ehm. Rugged stuff. Jeans."

"I don't have extra clothing."

"Hardly a problem," he muttered, and waved his wand. My dress had been transfigured to tight blue jeans, an over-sized sweater that slipped down my shoulder, and black boots.

"Tie your hair," Steve said, lapsing into his work.

"Thanks."

I ran out, hastily tying my hair on the way. Ryan whistled as I passed.

Daniel opened the door as soon as I was about to knock. The elastic was still between my teeth.

"Oh, hi," I said, looking up at him.

"Hi," he replied. He reached up and tugged the elastic away from my teeth. _Oh._ He took my hand and put it in my palm. "As far as I know, that's supposed to go in your hair," he said. Goosebumps erupted where he had touched me. He was smirking. _Again. _

I said something really smart like 'uh'.

"Come on." He said, and started walking ahead of me. I tied my hair up in a messy knot, following him. My hair fell out in loose strands, but he was walking so fast. He didn't even take the elevators, he just whipped down the stairs. At the first floor, Mr. Richards was talking to another man in midnight blue robes.

"Max," Daniel said, jogging up to him. He was the only person that called him by his first name.

"Wolfe," he nodded.

"I got a letter from Silverston. There's been another one."

I stood awkwardly behind him.

"Another one? Same signs?"

Daniel nodded. "Gouged out eyes, stolen wand. I'm going there to check it out."

"You and Woods?" he nodded at me.

"Yes."

"Take Blake and Williams."

Daniel scoffed. "We'll be fine. Silver's and his team's there."

"Fine. Be careful." He patted him on the back, and Daniel raced off, me after him. He was wearing hi tops under his trousers; he didn't even _look _like an auror. He looked like a sexy drug addict who had just rolled out of bed.

"Woods, hurry up," he called after me, when we reached the doors.

"Side Along Apparition," he said, when I came out after him. He grabbed my elbow and steered me into an alley behind the booth.

_Holy hell._ He was standing so close to me, I could smell him; an intoxicating mix of cologne and shampoo. How was it that he looked like a homeless man and smelled so good?

"Hold on," he said. I gripped his arm tight. One moment of hell, and I almost fell face first on the ground.

Daniel held my arms and put me upright. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I tucked the loose strands of red behind my ears.

I looked up ahead. We were standing on a low hill, overlooking a few houses down below. They were all small and neat, with little trees and gardens. Daniel pointed at the first house, at the foot of the hill. "Seem okay to you?"

It was a small cottage, behind a rusted gate. It stood in a perfectly cut lawn, small; but neat. An apple tree stood a little further away from it; a kite stuck in its branches, fluttering loosely.

"Yes," I said uncertainly. Except it wasn't. "It's quiet."

"Exactly. Too quiet, wouldn't you say?"

I nodded. He leaned against the tree behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. "First lesson on the field, Woods. Too quiet is always _bad._"

"So what happened here?"

"A second murder. If there's a third we have a serial killer on our hands. And not just any serial killer. One that's not even human."

"The goblin."

"Unless I'm wrong, and I rarely am," he smirked at me. _Asshole. _"Its not one. It's a group. They plan and they kill. Choose their victims carefully. I don't know what connects the murders except how they were killed."

"Is that what we're looking for."

"That's what we're looking for." He nodded. "Come on." We walked down the slope that led to the house, but when we reached the bottom, I felt like someone had dunked a bucket of ice cold water over my head. Suddenly, the cottage was surrounded by people in grey robes, the door was open- people were constantly going in and out.

"Those are ministry officials," I said, pointing at them.

"Yeah," Daniel nodded. "They're inspecting the body."

One of the officials walked up to us, a grim expression on his face.

"Silver," Daniel shook his hand.

"Wolfe." He was tall, well built- with a mop of dirty blond hair on his head. His haggard, pale face was marred by scars, and he wore grey robes over a jeans and a t-shirt. He seemed a bit older than Daniel, maybe thirty one or thirty two. His eyes were an unsettling gold; hard, and another scar ran down his left one, down the side of his mouth, marring them in a permanent scowl. He looked like the kind of person that smiled even less that him.

"Roark Silverston," he shook my hand quickly. "Woods, I presume?"

I nodded. "Pleasure to meet you. So, what's up?"

"Take a look."

I almost gagged when I saw the mangled body lying on the floor. Daniel seemed to read my mind. He leaned in from behind me and whispered in my ear, "Relax. He's dead." I took in a deep breath. (partly because the body was disgusting and party because Daniel's breath smelled like cinnamon and I wanted his lips near my ear again)

The room was small, but tidy. There were two couches, a rug on the floor under a coffee table. Bookshelves covered one wall, and the other one had a huge window overlooked the garden. I noticed the paintings; a man, and a woman, presumably his wife.; both of them were plump, smiling; happy. They waved at the camera and laughed from time to time, hugging and kissing each other.

The only thing out of place in the room was the broken body lying on the floor, blood seeping from his face.

The man had been hit by a killing curse, for sure- and seeing from how the body fell, it was hit from somewhere by the door- then the perp had clawed his eyes out- there was a muck of pink mush where his eyes should have been. I wanted to puke again. Roark and a woman in the same grey robes stood next to us, explaining what they had found out to Daniel.

"It's the same as the Franklin case," the lady muttered, brows furrowed. "But why mutilate the body like this? It's like they're trying to get caught."

Daniel shook his head, eyes narrowed as he looked at the dead man. "No, they're proving a point. That's different. They want to show us that they _can_. A wizard- he wouldn't need to do this. Where's his wife?" his eyes scanned the picture.

"She's not here. Either she's out of town, or he's divorced, or she's dead. He's still wearing his wedding ring, though."

Daniel shrugged. "Some people wear their rings even after they've been divorced. Find out who this woman is, and bring her in. Silver, what connects the murders?"

Roark shook his head. "No idea. Unless you count the fact that they're both males. Middle class families. He runs a book shop in Diagon Alley. Burke and Janus are at the shop, finding out what they can."

"Maybe that's the point, I said. Three of them looked at me. "Maybe they choose victims haphazardly. To throw you off their trail. You'll be so engrossed in figuring out what connect them that you'll be distracted from what's more important- their next victim."

Daniel looked at me for a few seconds, his eyes searching my face. "A valid point." He nodded approvingly. "Bones," he addressed the woman. Her blonde hair was tied back in a bun, and she was older than both of them; thin, reedy, severe. "We're sure it's the same one?"

She nodded. "Not a doubt. His wand's been stolen, as usual. And dumped a little further away."

"Wolfe, we found a child here."

Daniel's head snapped up. "Dead?"

"No. She was huddled in the corner. Terrified out of her mind. Parkinson reckons she saw it happen. But we don't know. She's not talking."

"Where is she?"

"Out back. In the garden. Do you want to see her?"

Daniel bit his lower lip, thinking. "No," he finally said. "Woods, go with Silver. Speak to this child. I'll stay here with Bones and look around."

"Okay."

The child had been seated on a little swing set in the neatly trimmed garden. One or two officials were milling around here, but only one of them was standing next to the child, trying to get her to speak. Silver and I approached her, and I saw him exchange a quick glance with the guy who was attempting to engage her.

"Parkinson. Had she said something?"

"Nah. She's still scared. You guys got this?"

"Yeah," I reassured him. He seemed relieved to get off this babysitting duty, and left us alone with the kid.

She was swinging lightly, her pretty green eyes staring straight ahead, not noticing anything in particular. Her curly brown hair had been tied in two pigtails, but now they were tangled and messy. She was pale, and her little pink dress had a smear of blood on the hem.

Roark kneeled in front of her, his eyes guarded. "Hello," he said.

The little girl's gaze shifted to the man in front of her. "Go away," she said, her eyes taking in his scars.

Roark remained expressionless.

I bet he was used to people being intimidating by his appearance. "Can I talk to you?" he asked carefully.

"No," she replied sullenly. "I want everyone to go away."

"Hey," he said, reaching out to touch her knee to reassure her, but as soon he touched her, she screamed. Roark drew back immediately, surprised.

"_Don't touch me," _she seethed.

"Okay," he said, his voice shaking a little.

"Roark," I said softly. "Let me."

She was terrified, and I wasn't surprised. None of us had any idea what she had seen, but we could form a pretty good idea. I might not be any more successful than Roark was, but he obliged and stood up, leaning against the iron pole of the swing set instead.

I kneeled in front of the kid. I siphoned off the blood with my wand, wondering why no one had done it by now. They were probably afraid she would scream again.

She didn't move.

"Hi," I said quietly.

She looked at me, cocking her head to one side. "Your hair is red."

"Yes," I agreed. "And yours is brown. Which one do you think is nicer?"

Her shoulders relaxed a little. Maybe she realised I wasn't asking her about what she had seen, and that calmed her.

"I like red. It's like fire, but not as scary."

"Does fire scare you?"

She nodded. "It didn't...but now it does." She frowned. "I can't remember why."

I leaned in closer. "What's your name?"

"Esme," she said promptly.

I felt Roark still beside me. I looked up at him, frowning.

He surveyed the kid now with a strange look in his eyes- strange because it seemed odd in his face- fear.

"Come with me," he said hoarsely. I patted the kid's knee and went off with him a little further away from the swings.

"She's lying," he said, uncertainly.

"But you don't think so," I noticed. "So what's the other alternative?"

"They've altered her memory. Bones thought so too, only..." he shrugged. "Why didn't they kill her?"

"Would it be too far to say they felt a change of heart?"

He snorted. "I doubt it."

I didn't say anything for a few seconds. Roark broke the silence. "She seemed to like you."

"Yeah," I said, my voice low. "But she's scared...and she can't even remember why. We need to get her to Saint-"

"She's scared of me," he suddenly said, interrupting me. "Most kids are. It's because of the face."

"I don't think-"

"Spare me," he said, holding his palm up. A bitter look crossed his face. "Don't say that to a werewolf."

"Wha-" I stared at him. _Don't stare at him, you idiot. There's nothing wrong with being a werewolf, you know that. There are more like him working in the ministry, relax. Don't embarrass him._

"Yeah." He looked away from me.

"I don't care about that," I said earnestly. "hardly anyone does, anymore."

He laughed bitterly. "Please. That's what they all say. It's not true."

"That's crazy. That kind of thing existed years ago, not anymore. You're an auror, aren't you?"

"Look, Woods. You're new here. I'm not going to burden you with this, because you'll see it with your own eyes soon enough. I'm an auror, yes, but my licence doesn't mean a thing. I'm always on the field, _always_. If I was really the same as everyone else, I'd have a comfy desk back at the ministry, like Wolfe. Unfortunately, I'm sent out more than anyone else, and it's because they don't care if I die."

A cold shiver ran down my spine. "T-that's not true."

"It's not?" He looked at me now, a strange light shining is his eyes. "Do you really think so? I made the papers when Richards hired me. A werewolf, an auror? Do you know how many others work in this department? Zero. Do you know how many work in the entire ministry? Three. We never learn, Woods, never. Maybe when half the muggle-borns are wiped off again we'll change. But damn if I'm wrong- we'll go back to what we were again."

"That happened ages ago. Everything's different now." But the words sounded hollow to my own ears- _Everything's different now._ I'd heard those very words from countless people before me- it was a well practised line that everyone used, and Roark recognized it.

He looked at me, disgust curling his lip. "I don't even know why I'm explaining this to you. Don't you _see_? Look around you. Potter's _dead¸ _Woods. And that golden age rubbish with him. Look where we are now. Goblins murdering wizards. Do you realise what this means? Pretty soon they'll be assassinating ministry officials next, and I won't be surprised."

"What are you trying to tell me?" I asked, my voice trembling. This guy was mad. What was he playing at, telling me all this?

"I'm telling you to open your eyes while you still have them," he hissed. "This equality? It's a farce. That's why that man's lying dead in his own house, with two holes where his eyes should be. So the next time someone tells you that we're all the same in the eyes of the ministry, don't believe them."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Just to clear up any doubts, this is in the future, third/fourth generation, where Harry is dead. I needed a clean slate from where I could pick up my story, but everything is canon. Any questions, message me.**

**If you love me, please review! if you don't, review anyway. :D**


	4. Chapter 4

Four

Daniel was talking earnestly to Bones when I came back in, Roark behind me. He saw me come in and raised a long fingered hand to silence her. "Silver. Woods. What did you find out?"

"She's had her memory cleared," I said, walking up to him. The body was gone. "Where's the body?"

"We sent it to the Ministry," Bones said.

I looked up at Daniel. He was still looking at me, searching my face for something. "Are you okay?" he asked.

I stared at him. He had never asked me anything except 'Have you gotten the files?" and here he was, questioning after my well being? I was about to answer when I saw his gaze shift to Roark, who was leaning against the open door. His eyes narrowed, but he kept his lips sealed. _Oh._ I probably still looked freaked out from all the shit he had dumped on me.

"Anyway," Daniel muttered, looking at me again. "Tell me about the child."

"There aren't any pictures of her here," I noticed, glancing around the room.

"She's not their kid," Roark said from the door.

"Obviously not. Which is why they should have killed her. Instead, they wiped her memory clean and left her here. Do you see anything, Woods?"

"I think they're not killing because they want to. They have an agenda. If it's really goblins, its because of their usual vendetta. They have something personal, and the kid isn't apart of it, so they didn't finish her off. They made sure she'd keep shut, and then they went their way."

"Very good," he nodded.

"Sir," someone came up behind me. She was skinny,with long brown hair platted down her back. "We got in touch with Fox."

"Excellent. Woods, come with me. Bones, Silver, Kirk. We've sent the body back to the Ministry. Get Parkinson and Patil and head back. Silver, tell Richards that Woods and I are meeting Fox."

"Are you sure? The last time he sent us off on the wrong track."

"The last time his whore ended up behind bars," Daniel snapped. "He's our only lead now. What do you expect me to do, sit at my bloody desk and wait for another murder?"

Roark didn't flinch. "It's your choice, _sir._"

Daniel narrowed his eyes. They glowered at each other for a few seconds, until Roark stepped back and stomped out. _Woah. What was his deal?_

Someone coughed discreetly. A guy came up, with dark skin, his longish black hair tied back in a loose pony tail. "Sir, we'll head back."

Daniel nodded, his face an unexpressive mask again. He grabbed my elbow and steered me out of the house, until we were outside. It was cold. He turned up the collar of his jacket against the wind, which obscured half his face if I saw him from the side. I noticed his dark hair curling inwards at his ears, the tightness of his shoulders. He was tensed. I wonder what that whole thing with Roark was.

"Whose Fox?" I asked, as we walked up the hill, trying to calm him.

"Maximus Fox. That's not his real name, just an alias."

"So who is he?"

"You'll see soon enough," he said evasively, gripping my arms tightly. A shiver ran down my spine. _Calm down you depraved lunatic._

* * *

><p>When we disapparated, I had no idea where we were. The sky above was overcast with clouds, and I could hear crows cawing nearby. It was colder than the hill at the murder scene, and I shivered. We were in a narrow street, lined with stunted, old, broken buildings. Two or three people walked past, shoulders hunched, heads down. It had the air of a place that had been silent for a long, long time. I shivered again, and this time it had nothing to do with the cold.<p>

"Where are we?"I asked. Daniel crossed the road, me following him, and we stopped in front of another of those low buildings. It had a yellow, cracked display window with a few peeling, faded posters, and it was inlaid with grey stone.

"The Green Dragon," he replied, opening the door for me. A bell tinkled softly.

The pub itself was filthy; it was musty, dank, and dark. Faint, rain washed daylight entered through the only window at the side. The floor was made of wood, and there were maybe four or five tables scattered around, and customers sat there, with the same hunched stance as the ones I had seen outside; grim faces, low whispering voices. A short, stunted man in mismatched clothes milled around the tables, picking up dirty plates and serving firewhisky.

I was glad I wasn't here alone. Daniel's presence by my side reassured me. When we came in, everyone looked at us suspiciously. I couldn't blame them; this town had probably not seen a new face for decades.

"Come on," he said softly, putting his hand on the small of my back and leading me to a table in the corner. I wasn't sure what had prompted him to sit here, there were other empty tables; and given this pub's questionable hygiene standards, I wasn't too psyched. I siphoned off some of the dust with my wand, and sat down.

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing here or not?" I asked, trying not to touch anything that didn't need to be touched.

Daniel rolled his eyes, like I was asking him the colour of his underwear or something. Jeez. "This is a wizarding village called Ravenshold. It used to be habited by muggles, but there was some kind of genocide long before Voldemort that wiped them off," he explained, taking off his jacket. "Fox lives here. At least, he used to. Now he hardly every stays in one place. Him and his son are ministry informants, so to speak. A couple of years ago he was thrown in Azkaban on a murder charge. He offered information to get him out. He had some links to this group the Ministry was trying to get their hands on. So we busted him out, he told us what he knew. He owes a lot to the M.O.M, so he usually shows up when we have something to ask him."

"But...that group. They would know they he ratted them out. Shouldn't Fox be hiding?"

"Fox took care of that. They're all rotting in Azkaban. Fox gave us every last name." The corner of his lip turned up in a crooked smile.

I was about to reply when someone plopped himself down on the empty stool.

"Let me see the gold first, Wolfe," he growled.

The man was short, muscular- with a cruel, brutal face, scars running down his throat like he had been mauled by a wild animal. He had stringy black hair that had been tied back in a greasy knot, and his eyes were mismatched; one blue, one brown. He had prickly hairs along his chin and cheeks, like he had shaved with a really bad razor, and a chunk of his cheek was missing, shiny pink skin covering the hollow.

Daniel grinned. It was the first time I had seen enthusiasm show up on his face, and it wasn't surprising that the sight of a fugitive would bring him a smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Fox. Are you alone?" Daniel passed a few galleons to him across the table.

"Hardly," a thin, rasping voice said, and someone emerged from the shadows in the corner like the light had bent and created him.

"Angus. Were you here all this while?" Daniel raised his eyes to look at him, him mouth in an amused curve.

The man was young, slender, pale; blonde hair so light it was white hung down both sides of his face like a platinum curtain. His face was sharp and angular; his eyes pale grey. He was wearing a long dark coat and fingerless gloves. He grinned crookedly at Daniel. "Maybe, maybe not."

"This is Max's son," Daniel told me, still looking at Angus. "A metamorphous, so don't try to remember his face."

In the midst of the conversation, the stunted man who had been picking up glasses limped to our table and glowered at us. He had a long, brown tangled beard, and was completely bald. Probably a dwarf. I stared at his hostile expression for a few seconds before Maximus interrupted and said, "Four glasses of mead." And waved him off.

"I haven't seen this face before, Wolfe," Angus said, and looked at me, and his gaze made me shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"Stop flirtin you idiot," Maximus snapped at him. "Stand guard. Wolfe. Cut the shit and tell me what you want."

"She'll tell you," he gestured towards me. _What? I wou-_

The dwarf came back with four glasses and slammed them on the table. Daniel tossed him four sickles.

Maximus turned towards me, and raised his eyebrows. "Another ministry whore. Fine. Tell me, sugar. What's got them fucked up this time?"

Daniel glared at him, but wisely said nothing.

"I think you know, Fox," I started. "If you've been doing what you usually do, you must have heard about the murders. Two, to be precise. Males. We think its-"

"Goblins," Maximus nodded. "Oh yes. The ministry knows _nothing_. Now it may be goblins, it may not. But if it is," he leaned in so close I could smell his putrid breath and see his stained, crooked teeth. "What are you going to do?"

"We don't pay you for riddles," Daniel said, rapping his knuckles against the table. "Tell us something worthwhile or pay us back."

Max spat on the floor. "Alright, sonny. I'll tell you. Three words. _Dissension in the ranks._ They're speaking of rebellion, they are. Sure, it may seem like empty words to most people- but you can't say that now, can you, with all these bodies back at the Ministry?"

"Do you have names or not?" I asked.

"Nope, no names. But I've been saying some of them goblins- not working in Gringotts, not doin' nothin respectable. They want _wands_, as usual- but this time- hear me out, sugar- they said- '_we take our wands or we kill them.' _ But I don't see many, and as much as I've seen of these two faced tripes- they don't work well together. So I'll give you some advice. They're doing it _for _ someone, see, they're working_ for _ him. Now who, I don't have a clue. But it's somethin, and more'n what three galleon 's worth, so hand over some more gold, Wolfe."

"Nope, you get what I give you. Or do you want us to hand you back in?" Daniel stood up, gesturing me to do the same.

Mazimus paled, scowling at us. "All you ministry lapdogs are the same. I give you your weight in diamonds, sonny-"

"No you gave us some half baked shit about goblins wanting wands," I said. "That's nothing more than what we know. Thank you, Maximus." I walked away with Daniel, feeling Angus' eyes bore into my back as we went out.

We started walking out when Maximus growled, "Wait."

Daniel stopped and turned around, his expression impassive.

"Sit back down. There might be something else I can do for you."

"Well, it better be good," Daniel muttered, and sat back down on the stool, his hands templed on the table. He looked at me and gestured to the stool next to him, telling me to sit.

Maximus slouched back into his seat. Angus was still leaning against the wall behind, regarding us intently.

"Alright," Fox said. "I know someone who can help you. He doesn't live far from here, and I don't know his name. Not his real name, anyway. Mind you, he doesn't like the ministry anymore'n I do, so you better be expecting some tough love."

"Maybe if you'd be a bit more specific, what you just said would actually make some sense," Daniel drawled.

Fox glared at him. "I'm tellin' you everythin' I know. I'll take you up to him, but I'm leavin after that. He doesn' like me, but he knows more'n me about this."

"How do we know you're not setting us up?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't," Angus suddenly rasped, emerging from the shadows again. "But this is the best help we can give you. This man doesn't see visitors, but if you say I sent you, he will listen to you, and maybe tell you something useful."

"I thought he doesn't like you."

"He doesn't like my father. But I've helped him out a bit, and he owes me a favour. Perhaps I will go with you, as a personal favour." He smiled at me, perhaps in what he thought was a charming way, but actually creeped the hell out of me.

"How generous of you," Daniel quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But if this is a trick..." He trailed off, leaving the threat unsaid, but clearly implied and hovering in the air like noxious gas. A wolfish smile graced his lips, one that scared me even more than Angus'.

He narrowed his eyes. "It's not a trick."

"Shut up," Fox snapped at his son. He turned to us. "We're offerin' to help you. If you don't want it, you just have to say."

"Take us to this guy," I said, leaning across the table to look into his eyes. "But the threat still stands."

"Very well," Angus said. "I'm afraid I will have to show you. Father will not come."

We got up, ready to leave.

"Gold, Wolfe."

Daniel fished out a sickle from his pocket and threw it on the table. "That's all you get. For now. We don't know if we'll go there and have our throats slit. Take it or leave it."

He scowled, but pocketed the silver anyway.

"If you're finished, follow me." Angus walked out the door. We followed.

We stood outside the door. Daniel's hands were shoved into his pockets, his hair windswept and his cheeks pink from the cold. It was almost freezing now, and I was shivering in my thin sweater.

"We'll apparate," Angus announced, taking my hand before I could say anything. He smiled at me again, that crooked, creepy smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Daniel cleared his throat an raised a dark eyebrow. "No we won't," He crossed his arms and he looked at Angus' hand on my arm, his lip curling. Angus removed his fingers and looked at Daniel with those pale, cold eyes.

"No? And why not?"

"Because we don't know where you'd take us. You said he doesn't live far from here. I'm fairly sure we're capable of walking."

"Ah," Angus replied. "Of course. Very true. Unless the lady will get tired?" he put his hand on the small of my back, looking condescendingly down at me.

"The lady will be fine," I spat, and stepped away from him. "Are you leading the way or not?"

Angus looked at me like he was thinking _Oh you'll soon see the error of your ways_, and it irritated me to no end.

"Yes. Yes, of course. If you'd please-" he stepped aside as if to tell me to start walking, but Daniel stepped beside me and told him coldly, "Why don't you walk in front, and we'll follow."

He narrowed his eyes. "As you wish." And began walking.

Daniel walked beside me, not looking at me, and even though it annoyed me a bit, I was used to it by now. He usually pretended I didn't exist, unless he needed me. It was fine with me, because he treated everyone that way.

Ravenshold was the same every turn, every street. The cobbled roads were narrow, all the buildings low and stunted and made of similar rough grey stone, and a few scraggly trees lined the streets. I could see ravens everywhere, flying above, cawing from the trees or houses. The people would look at us furtively from time to time, but they didn't pay much attention. It was stifling; a vague feeling of hoplessness seemed to seep through me, and I couldn't wait until I got out of this village.

"Tell us about who you're taking us to see," Daniel spoke after a while.

"He's like Father, if you must know," Angus replied, slowing down so he could walk with us. "Except he hasn't been in Azkaban. I don't know if he's committed any crimes as such; maybe, maybe not. But your ministry hasn't been able to get a hold on to him, so either he's slippery or he's just clean. He keeps low, he knows people, criminals, thieves, murderers, rapists. They whisper to him because they trust him, and he will tell you what he knows if he likes you. He may not tell you anything at all, but perhaps as a favour to me, he will speak."

He looked down as he spoke, his voice soft. Daniel's brow was furrowed as we went up a sloping path.

"What did you do for him?"

"Now that would be telling." Angus looked at his, a smirk on his pale face.

I shivered, and I didn't know if it was just because of the cold.

Daniel shrugged of his coat and held it out to me, without even looking in my direction.

"I don't need-"

"Wear it," he ordered, and his tone made it clear he didn't want to argue. I took it from him, wondering where this sudden concern for my well being had sprung from. But he was probably worried I'd get sick and not come to work or something.

I shrugged into it, and immediately felt better. It was warm, and smelled faintly of cologne. That, of course, I tried to ignore. Daniel was just wearing his shirt now, and I hoped it would be warm enough.

"How far is it?" I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Not far. At the bottom of this hill."

We reached the top, where a few houses had sprung up haphazardly, like a child had thrown out the contents of a sack of building blocks.

We started downwards, and it wasn't any harder than coming up.

When we reached the bottom of the hill, Angus stopped, holding up his hands to halt us. His eyes darted from side to side, as if waiting for something to spring from the undergrowth and attack.

Then he relaxed, and pointed to a pathway leading down to the side of the slope. We followed him, until we came to a thick curtain of vines and leaves and branches.

"He lives beyond this," Angus explained.

Daniel didn't speak for a few seconds, staring intently at the brambles. He looked at angus, and some kind of look passed between them, and I wasn't privy to it. But I noticed Daniel's visible relaxation. He nodded. "Let's go." He closed his fingers around my elbow to drag me forward, and together, the three of us passed through it.

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><p><strong>PLEASE REVIEW! :D<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

**A/N: Hi, guys! Here's a shiny new chapter for you. Thank you so much for your reviews; they were very nice and motivating. Keep reviewing and I'll keep posting! Hope you like this one. :D**

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><p>I had no idea where we were, and that it was possible for that mess of branches and leaves to be hiding an entire house beyond it.<p>

But it was true.

It was a small area, and a wooden house was nestled against the side of the hill, underneath a huge, overhanging tree. The grass here was overgrown and even yellow; the tree was barren and sickly looking. A wood had sprung up behind the house, so it was as if this small area existed merely for the benefit of the man who lived inside the house.

Daniel frowned and looked at Angus.

"This is where he lives?" I asked.

Angus nodded. "Yes. Now, if you would please?"

Daniel still did not trust him; that was clear. His stance was more angular somehow, his back straight, his eyes hard and his mouth a thin, straight line. He knew something; he was seeing something that I didn't, and that was enough to put me on guard as well.

Angus was walking in front of us, and very quickly, Daniel grabbed my elbow, pulled me to his side, and whispered in my ear, "If I tell you to run, _run._"

I stared at him, gaping. "If you think I'm going to leave you here, you're wrong," I hissed back.

Before he could say anything, we had already reached the house, and Angus knocked loudly, thrice. It was strange, surreal even- to see Angus knocking politely on the door of a man who might be a criminal. It was strange that we were here in the first place, when there was any chance this could be a trick. But I was sure Daniel wouldn't have come here if he thought we would end up dead.

_Or would he?_

My thoughts came to an end when the door creaked open, a sliver of faint yellow light shining from inside. Someone peeked from behind the door, but all I could see was a twisted mouth, since the upper half of his face was covered with shadow.

"Who are you?" he rasped.

"Angus, my friend. Long time, no see. Can I come in?"

"I don't know no Angus. Even if I did, how would I know it was you?"

"Would you like to change into a pretty girl? I still do that kind of thing. Or perhaps tell you the story of how I saved your sorry arse from Redrum? Take your pick. I like being polite."

"Keep your mouth shut, pretty boy. Come in." He opened the door completely for Angus to come in, but then he noticed us for the first time.

"And who are they?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Friends of mine. Now do let us come in, you're being rude."

"You don't have no friends. Tell the truth."

"I brought them here to meet you. There's no point arguing here in the cold. Step aside and let us come in."

He scowled, but moved away from the door. Daniel, still silent, moved in behind Angus, moving with the easy grace I should not be noticing in a time like this.

The house was much bigger on the inside. I wasn't surprised, he was a wizard, wasn't he? Or maybe not. I looked at him, to find that he was staring right back at me. He was tall, thin, with wispy grey hair that fell to his shoulders, a lean, haggard face with a pointed chin and nose, and he wore clothes that looked old but expensive. I swept my eyes around the room we were in. It was dark, lighted dimly by the glow of one or two candles that were hanging in mid hair. The walls and the floors were made of wood, with no decoration except a few cuttings from _The Daily Prophet_. I was too far away to notice what they were. There was a thick red carpet on the floor in one side of the room, under two sofas facing each other. A man lounged on one of them facing us, his long legs stretched out before him. He was using a knife to clean his fingernails while staring at us with the same suspicion I saw in the other one's eyes. I noticed two or three more people. A woman dressed in shorts and a sweater leaned against the wall on another side of the room, next to a man with a shock of bright red hair. Everyone looked at us with narrowed eyes, hostility and weariness mixing together on their faces.

"Alright, you bastard. Why are you here? And who are they?" he jutted his chin towards us.

"Won't you offer us a seat? Where are your manners?" Angus joked.

The man scowled again. "Sit, then, if you must. Roach, get up." He said to the man who was finely shaping his fingernails.

"Why should I? They can make themselves comfortable enough. In fact, the babe can sit next to me." The guy smiled crookedly at me. My lip curled disgust.

"Go, go, sit. Just sit the fuck down and tell me what shit you need sorted out this time."

The sofas were filthy, but I sat down on one of them, next to Daniel, who sat bent forward, his legs apart, hands steepled between them.

The man with the grey hair sat opposite. Angus did not sit, he leaned against the wall to the side of both sofas, so we had to turn our heads to see him. Daniel was still not speaking, but I could tell from his eyes that he was taking in and observing everything; noticing, calculating, cataloguing random facts and data into his mind; he had probably chalked out the fastest route of escape if it came to it. I felt no comfort that he looked so ill at ease.

I nervously felt the wand tucked into the waistband of my jeans, feeling a tiny bit better.

The guy called Roach was still looking lecherously at me. I ignored him, shifting a bit closer to Daniel all the same. He noticed it, I think, and he leaned back, casually draping his arm over the back of the sofa, his fingers almost brushing my shoulder. His way of telling me to calm down. The gesture touched me and the slight touch of his fingertips sent a buzz right down my spine _but this was not the time to be thinking like this._

Angus spoke.

"This is Lycan. Lycan, this is Wolfe, Woods. They've come to ask you some questions."

"Oh, questions this time, is it?" he sneered.

"Are you going to keep interrupting every time I attempt to speak? We'll be here all night if you're planning to do that."

"Maybe I should talk," Daniel suddenly spoke. Lycan turned to him sharply, his eyes narrowing to slits. Angus cocked his head to one side, his lips curling up in amusement.

"Very well," he said. "Yes, Wolfe should be the one to talk." His tone was slow, guarded, conveying a message to Daniel clear as day; _watch what you say._

"Angus told us that you know things," he started, speaking in that clipped, polite tone that made people instantly assume he thought that he was better than them. I didn't know whether he did it on purpose, or if that was just how he spoke, but would it kill him to sound a bit warmer? Then again, maybe that was how we would get Lycan's attention. "And we thought maybe you could clear some things up."

"Know things? Of course I know things. I know that the sky is blue and this damn house is made of wood. What kind of things are we talking about here, boy?"

"We need your help," I spoke this time, an idea forming in my head as I pieced the words together. "Someone very dear to us is dead. My brother. And he died very strangely...and no one seems to be able to tell us how."

I was looking at Lycan, measuring his reaction to each word I uttered, carefully tailoring them when I saw his expression change for the worse. It was hard, and I had to speak slowly, and Daniel's gaze on me was not making things better. He knew I was lying, of course- and he didn't try to stop me. I hoped it meant it was because he admired my expertise in 'people things'.

"I'm not a bloody seer. Did you come all the way here to tell me some sob sorry about your dead brother? I can't help you. Why do you think I can?" Lycan scowled.

"She's just asking you to listen, Lycan. Can you at least listen? Do this as a favour," Angus said. 'favour' seemed to be the magic word. He shot Angus a look of pure loathing before turning his attention back to me.

"Very well. I will _listen._ Go on."

"He was killed by some_thing_, I don't know. We went to the Ministry, but they won't tell us _anything_. And we know that he wasn't killed by-killed by-" I squeezed a few fake tears out of my eyes. _Come on,_ I egged myself on. _Make it look convincing. Act._ "A human." I covered my face in my hands and wacked out some dry sobs. I hope it didn't look as fake as it felt.

"Make her stop crying," Lycan ordered.

Daniel awkwardly patted my back. I got up, wiping my eyes.

"So. Can you help us?" Daniel asked.

"What do you expect me to do?" he asked, loudly. Too loudly. Daniel looked at me briefly. It was enough. We both knew he was hiding something.

"Come on, Lycan. You know what's going on. Someone must have told you something."

His lip curled as he looked at our expectant expressions. "Fine." He spat the word out. "You're speaking about the goblin killings. The sodding ministry's right about one thing; it's not human. What they're not telling you is that it's been done by goblins."

"But how can you be so sure?" Daniel asked. "What proof do you have?"

"Now look here. Even if I _do _tell you something worthwhile-" he looked at his finger nails as he spoke, his eyes half-closed, "What can you do about it? The Ministry is a bunch of fucked up wankers. Do you think they'll listen to you if you tell them you have information that will probably help them a whole lot more than the shit _they _think is valuable?"

"We just want answers," Daniel's voice had a steely edge to it.

"Ah. _Answers_. What do I get out of this, Angus?" he looked straight at Daniel while he spoke.

"Nothing. You're doing this as a favour, remember?" Angus pushed some hair out of his eye almost elegantly.

"And how many favours am I supposed to do until you get the fuck out of my life?" he snapped in return.

"Tsk tsk. How many favours do you think are equivalent to your life, Lycan?" He looked at him, a smirk playing on his lips. He looked creepy as hell and if I was Lycan I would shut the hell up and just do what he told me to do.

He gave him another one of his pure loathing looks and turned back to us. "This is what I will tell you. Don't ask me for more, because I don't know anything else. Look for a goblin named Narvark. Disguise yourself because he has no love for humans. Offer him something he would find valuable, and he will eat out of your hand. You will not find him easily, but when you do, he will lead you in the right direction. Assuming he doesn't kill you first."

"But that's nothing. Where _can _we find him? And why are we offering him a gift if he'll kill us anyway?"

"That's a risk you will have to take. The gift may placate him. That's why you're giving it to him in the first place. And as for where you'll find him, I do not know. You will have to trap him, since that's your best chance of contacting him. Get him to believe you want someone killed. He will know. The last place I heard of him was in Griffinswood."

At the sound of the name, Daniel suddenly stiffened, his jaw tightening and his knuckles turning white. I looked at him, confused, but he did not say anything.

"...That was weeks ago, but you might get something if you go there. Now that's what I know. Get out."

It was a clear dismissal, and I couldn't wait to get out of here. Daniel stood up immediately, along with me.

Angus grinned at Lycan. "You're a lovely man, Lycan. Thank you."

"_Get the fuck out of my house." _He spat between gritted teeth.

I was only too glad. The three of us walked towards the door, and Angus' fingers had scarcely touched the doorknob when someone said, "Wait."

The three of us turned around together, and it would have been almost comical if I wasn't scared out of my mind.

Roach, who had stayed silent through the entire conversation, was now standing up, looking at us with a strange expression on his face- eyes narrowed, lips twisted in suspicion. His eyes were fixed on Daniel. Lycan was still sitting, and looked at him curiously. The two people I had seen, leaning against the wall, were closer now, taking a more keener interest in the proceedings.

"I-I've seen you somewhere," he finally said, his voice shaking a little.

My scalp prickled.

"Maybe," Daniel said slowly, backing up against the door.

"Probably not, though," Angus replied.

"Yeah, you see guys like all the time." I reached for the doorknob.

"No...NO! You're..._Wolfe. _Wolfe...I've heard that somewhere..." His hands were moving towards the pocket of his jeans.

Lycan suddenly shot up, looking between Roach and us. "Stop." He ordered, paling. "STOP."

"_Run." _Daniel whispered. I didn't need to be told. But Angus kicked the door open, and pushed me out of there. "_GET OUT OF HERE," _he hissed.

"No, I can't-"

And that was when all Hell broke loose.

"_CRUCIO," _ two voices said at once, and a bright green light shot out of the door. Angus pushed me out of the way, slamming his entire body weight on to me, so we tumbled onto the grass outside. I scrambled to my feet, wand pointing ahead of me. "DANIEL!" I screamed.

He ran out, ducking as a gazillion curses hurled at him.

"WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE?" he shouted at me.

Lycan and Roach were out, their wands pointing at him. The redhead and the girl after them, _their _ wands pointing at Angus and me.

"Move and I will curse you into a million pieces," the girl sneered at me.

"Daniel Wolfe," Lycan spat. "I should have known."

"I _knew _you looked familiar!" Roach said. "You're from the sodding _ministry._ How _dare _you come here!"

"Roach, stop-" Lycan started, but he was cut off by a sudden shout of "_Sectumsempra!" _ watched, my eyes wide, as Lycan stumbled back, blood pouring copiously out of a wound down his torso.

He hissed something unintelligible, and the three of them turned towards Daniel, their wands raised, and I took that as an opportunity.

Angus yelled, "_STUPEFY!" _ at the redhead, Daniel cursed Roach backwards, and I disarmed the dude with _Expelliarmus. _I stuffed his wand into my pocket, my own wand raised at him.

The three of them had been rendered useless, and for a second, I breathed. One second too late. One second that we just _used frivolously, _because we should have been out of there, but Lycan, who we thought was disarmed, had his wand out in one second, when Daniel's attention was one me, and I watched with a kind of dazed horror as he spluttered out a curse that sent him sprawling.

Daniel flew backwards, landing on his side, blood pouring out of his mouth as he struggled to get up.

"STUPEFY!" I yelled at Lycan, and that curse hit him right in the head. He fell back, eyes rolled backwards.

I ran to Daniel, falling to my side. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," he cut me off brusquely, wiping the blood off his lips. Blood was seeping through a wound on his side, but he was ignoring it. He got up shakily. I wanted to help him- but I knew he would never let me.

"Angus-" I turned around to tell him to get us out of here, because Daniel was in no fit state to- but I couldn't see him anywhere. "Where-"

"Angela," Daniel said hoarsely, eyes widening at something behind me. I whipped out my wand just in time to shout _"Protego!" _as a flash of purple light bounced off the shield.

Angus stood in front of us, his wand out, two other men behind him.

"You fucking-" Daniel started.

"I'm sorry, Wolfe, but I had to." He look genuinely apologetic, and I wanted to spit at him.

"It was a trick," I whispered.

"Not exactly. I hadn't planned on it turning out like this. But I can't have Lycan thinking that I betrayed him. His favours are too valuable to me. I kept my end of the promise. I got you your information. Now, technically, I'm under no obligation."

"_Ferrago!," _Daniel snarled, and aimed his wand right at Angus' feet. Thick, green wines covered with-covered with _thorns_ wrapped around his legs. Angus screamed, trying to cut them off with his wand. Blood puddled his feet and I wanted to puke.

The two guys behind him jumped into action- shouting simultaneous curses. Daniel pushed me out of the way. I went sprawling just like him, my mouth filling with dust as I hit the ground, hard. I tasted blood where I had bit my own tongue. I got up, but the two men were concentrating on him- he had erected another shield- but I didn't know how much longer he would last. He was pale- his voice growing weaker with every curse he shouted. He wasn't being smart when he pushed me out of the way- he would have known he needed me- Daniel couldn't just _let _himself be killed. One of the guys turned to me, shouting out a hex I wasn't sure I missed. My head started throbbing suddenly. Pain seared through my stomach. If he wasn't going to let me fight, I would help him some other way. Wait. How? I couldn't think. My leg's felt like jelly. I had to...I had to...

I apparated out of there.

And appeared inside the Auror HQ. I heard the familiar noise of owls squaking and people shouting, which seemed surreal after my brush with death hardly three seconds ago.

Nobody noticed me for five...four...three...two...

"JESUS CHRIST!" Someone shouted. My vision was swimming. I could see someone running towards me, and before I fell to the floor, he grabbed me.

"Angela? Angela! Merlin, she's bleeding. SOMEONE GET THE MUNGOS PORTKEY!"

"No. Wait..." my voice sounded hoarse and strange to my ears. I needed to tell him. "Daniel, Danger. Track him. Ravenshold. GO. _Now._" I might have slapped him just to make my point. I wasn't sure.

But he understood. He seemed to deposit me in someone else's arms, and I heard him yelling, "WILLIAMS! CRAIG! GET THE WHOLE TEAM! WE NEED TO GET TO RAVENSHOLD! NOW!"

I felt weak. I hoped Daniel wasn't dead. A hysterical giggle burst through my lips. I heard four rapid _cracks _and I hoped that was the team apparating the fuck out of here and getting to Daniel.

I fainted promptly.

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><p><strong>AN: Ahahahaa. *evil laugh* I love cliffies, don't you? :D Chapter six will be up in a few days. Maybe quicker if I have more time. I'll try my best. A Daniel POV is in store. See you soon. XOXO**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hi. Here you go. Chapter six. It might seem like a bit of a filler chapter, but this was needed. Enjoy! Thank you very much for your reviews. **

Six

_Daniel_

"_Where is everyone?" I think, tottering blindly down the corridor. _

"_Mommy?" I call uncertainly. I smell something funny. I wrinkle up my nose. "Daddy?" Nobody answers. My voice echoes throughout the house so I hear a chorus bouncing off the walls._

"_Mrs. Benett? Mrs Benett!" Still no one answers. Then, I hear it. Voices. Voices talking. I try to listen. Where is it coming from?_

_Then I can see Mrs. Benett. She is running towards me. She looks scared. She scoops me up into her arms and I try very hard not to cry but I start crying and I have no idea why I'm crying._

"_Mommy," I demand, kicking, trying to get out of her embrace. "Daddy," I insist. "Where are mommy and daddy?"_

_She doesn't reply. Why isn't anyone replying? Why doesn't anyone talk to me?_

"_Hush, sweetheart, hush Dany, everything's going to be fine, my little boy."_

_Why is she talking like that? I'm not a baby. I'm a grown up boy. I'm a grown up boy and I want mommy and daddy._

"_No," I grumble, pushing her back. I make my demands again. I think she thinks I'm too heavy, and she puts me down. Then I run._

"_No!" Mrs. Benett screams after me, and starts to chase me. But I am too fast for her. I've always been quick. Mommy always says so. Then I come to their bedroom, and I hear voices. The door is open. I run inside._

_There are two men there, wearing robes and they look scary._

"_Merlin," one of them says, looking at me. "What is this kid doing here? Get him out!"_

"_No, I want..." but the words die in my throat._

_I can see Mommy and Daddy._

_They're lying on the floor, sleeping._

_Why aren't they on the bed? And why is mommy's night gown all red? And why aren't they moving? WHY AREN'T MOMMY AND DADDY MOVING?_

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><p>My eyes snap open.<p>

"Ugh," I groan, clutching my head with my hands. Everything hurts. Why the fuck does everything hurt? My eyes feel like they've been taken out of my skull, rolled around in sand and put back in their sockets.

I try to rub the tiredness out of them, and then try to get myself into a sitting position, propping myself up against the pillows. Wait- pillows?

And then I notice for the first time that I am lying in a bed. A stupid sodding bed. I look around myself, to check my bearings. It doesn't even take me three seconds to deduce that I'm in St. Mungos. I've been in here far too many times. Now, as to how I got to the hospital- I close my eyes, pressing my fingertips to my temples to somehow alleviate the throbbing in my head.

I was fighting. I was fighting and I was failing miserably, bloody excuse for an Auror that I was- and I pushed Angela out of the way- _no don't think about her right now you dolt you have to get to the bottom of this-_ and then it was those two guys- Angus was- _Angus! _ Fucking traitor- _no wait, don't get sidetracked. What happened after that? _ Then I got one of them down- and then what? Did I collapse? Did I get them? Someone had apparated next to me- so wait, did I get that guy or did he? I didn't _remember. _And it was so bloody annoying not being _able _to remember_._

"Oh good, you're awake." Someone said. _Williams._

"Go away," I replied, and fell back against the pillows. My eyes felt heavy. I didn't sleep much, normally- but right now I felt bone crunchingly tired and I just wanted everyone _gone._

_Wait._

I sat up straight, ignoring the screaming protests from my head. "Angela. Where is she?" I snapped at him.

"Er." Steve looked a bit shocked at my sudden outburst. I didn't blame him, I was shocked myself. How did it _matter_? She was probably fine. If I was here, it meant she had gotten the message across, and they had taken care of her, Williams and that sodding idiot Blake. Except I couldn't just _accept _she was okay. I needed to make sure.

"Stop gaping at me like an idiot. Is she okay?"

"Well, yeah, of course she is."

"I'm going to check."

I threw the covers off and got off the bed, my feet touching the cold floor. Shit. Too fast. My head swam. I swayed. Williams ran forwards and caught me around my waist before I could fall. I was leaning heavily on him as it was.

"No you're not." He pushed me back. My vision was blurry. I needed to blink several times before I could see him clearly.

"But you're saying she's fine?" I asked, sounding uncertain. _Of course she's fine_. Why was I acting like such an idiot?

"Yes. Since when do you care so much?" That was a good question. A bloody brilliant question.

"She's my apprentice. I'm responsible for her, aren't I?" That seemed as good an answer as any. Besides, these tedious _talking _and _conversation _was making my head hurt more. My mouth felt dry. And now I had to justify myself just because I had inquired after the well being of a fellow colleague. Do people not go in for that sort of thing anymore? Or do people just not expect me to care? Merlin, what kind of image have I been projecting? I ran my hands through my hair just to give them something to do.

Williams looked at me, a skeptic expression on his face.

"What?" I snapped at him.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. You should get some rest."

"I don't need rest. What happened? Tell me the whole thing. Did you get them?"

He sighed, sitting down on the chair next to the bed. "We got them both, but that hardly means anything if we didn't get Angus, or the other one."

"Lycan? They're both gone? But that's impossible."

"Except it's not. He managed to apparate out of there, but I can understand why you're surprised. But he's slippery; we know that. And he was smart enough to take Lycan with him."

I nodded. "So those two are at the Ministry?"

"Yes. Awaiting your instructions. We didn't want to do anything until you returned from the dead."

"Good. I'm getting out of here." I got up, slower this time, because I didn't want to fall on top of Williams again like an idiot.

"I'm sure we can handle a few days without your divine intervention," he muttered, watching sullenly as I stood up. "You're hurt. The healers say you need your rest."

"Sodding healers," I said, under my breath, holding on to the iron rail of the bed for support. "I don't care. Do you really think I'm going to waste my time and just _lie _there? Like an invalid? I am _fine._ And I'm going to work."

"You can barely walk. It won't look very intimidating if you collapse while interrogating them."

"I am not going to collapse," I mutter, looking around the room. I turn to Williams. "Where are my clothes?"

"Mr. Wolfe!" someone screeches. I turn around. A healer is standing in the doorway, her short blonde hair in disarray. She has a very disapproving expression on her face. _Merlin, not again_.

"Mr. Wolfe," she seethes, again, as she walks towards me. "You should be in _bed. _May I remind you that Mungo's sends back all ministry officials in the best of their health, and I _cannot _ensure that if you flagrantly disobey our rules! I insist you get back into bed." She had her hands on her hips, and really didn't seem to like me. But I really didn't care.

"Thank you very much," I replied, hoping I didn't sound as curt as I thought I did. "But I feel perfectly fine. There's a very pressing case I need to handle at the moment."

She gaped at me, shocked at my audacity. "You need to- I must _insist -_I cannot-" she struggled to find words.

I put my hands on her shoulders and looked right into her eyes. "Please calm down. I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. Now, if I'm not asking too much, do you have any idea where my trousers are?"

She flushed, blinking several times. "Erm- yes. Of course. But are you sure-"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Very well." She nodded at me, and walked away, hopefully in search of my clothes.

"Well that went well," I grumbled. My head was hurting again. I sat down on the bed.

"Was it very necessary for you to flirt with her?" Williams asked, exasperated.

"_Flirt?" _ Oh not this again. _Daniel stop flirting with every woman you see_. "I did not _flirt_ with her, I conversed with her like any guy would."

"Yes, and now you have her thinking about your trousers."

"Well good. I can't go to work with no pants on. Unless you'll let me borrow yours?"

He rolled his eyes. "She's right though, you know. You really should rest."

"I'm going to hex you if you say that again. I've seen worse, as you well know. What about Angela? Is she okay?"

"Merlin, Wolfe, how many times are you going to ask me that? Go see for yourself if you don't believe me."

I was going to open my mouth for some snappy retort, but a healer jogged in the room. He threw me a bag, muttered, "Clothes, sir," and ran out.

"See? She's too scared to even give you your clothes herself. Anyway. If you're coming back to the Ministry irrespective of what smarter people have to say, I'll see you there."

"Mm."

My clothes had been cleaned, but I wasn't too keen on wearing them if they had been covered with my blood a few hours ago. But I wore them anyway, trying to make it look a little more respectable with my wand.

But before I apparated back, I needed to see Angela. I didn't know _why _I was being such an idiot. I'm sure she was fine, Williams had just told me- many more times than required because I kept on asking him on and on like a bloody _fool._ But maybe if I just saw her I'd calm down and start acting normal again.

I snorted. It took a lot of hard work acting normal around her.

Hopefully she didn't notice it. Or maybe she did. Angela was pretty perceptive. I shouldn't have brought her today. I should have sent her back when were done with Maximus. I _knew _it was going to be dangerous, but I brought her along anyway, and that was irresponsible and stupid. She could have fucking _died _and that would have been my fault. _No don't think like that. _I never hesitated bringing anyone else; why was I killing myself over her? She was training to be an auror, wasn't she? I learnt that way too.

Ugh. This was pointless. _I needed to see her_.

I went down to the reception and it took several minutes for the harried, annoyed, downright _pissed off_ woman to notice. And several more minutes until they finally showed me her room.

I knocked.

"Come in!" she very nearly screamed. I pushed open the door to come inside.

She was sprawled on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her arms hanging out on either side. I wasn't surprised.

I coughed.

She shot up immediately, staring at me, her green eyes wide. Her hair was a complete mess; a mane of tangled curls tumbling down her back like a fiery waterfall, and she looked pale. But other than that, she looked fine. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sir. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I _should_. But I'm not." I walked towards her bed and stood beside it, looking down at her. "Just came here to check on you. I need to get back."

"Then I should be getting back too, shouldn't I?" she grabbed for that pink rubber band she had been wearing that morning- I still remembered- and hastily tied her hair.

"No, you should stay here and sleep."

She looked at me, disgust on her pretty face. "_Sleep?" _she snorted, unlady-like "_Why?"_

"Because you're hurt. You were cursed. Stay here and rest."

"But that's not even fair! If you get to go back to work, I am not going to stay here and _sleep._" She spat it out like it was a dirty word.

I waved my hand dismissively. She was definitely _not _coming back to work."Listen, I came here to...erm..." why was it so difficult to speak to her? _Be a man, Wolfe._

"Yeah?" She reached over for the bottle of water on the nightstand and then I suddenly noticed that she was wearing a hospital gown and people didn't wear anything under hospital gowns.

"I-uh-" I was momentarily sidetracked by a montage of very dirty images passing through my head. _Stop, you priapic asshole. _"Yeah." I coughed. "I wanted to apologise for this morning. It was irresponsible. I shouldn't have brought you out so soon."

She frowned. "But you're supposed to. I thought I was an auror. Isn't this what we do? And besides, if I hadn't been there, how would you get help?"

"Yes," I said, again at a loss of words, noticing the sudden tinge of pink in her cheeks. "But it was _dangerous_, and-"

"You told me it would be dangerous, remember?'

"I did, but I don't plan on you dying that soon, and definitely not while you're working under me." I started to leave.

"Does this mean I'm going to have to do paper work again?" She sounded scandalised. I wanted to laugh at the comical tone of her voice.

"Maybe," I said ominously.

"But that's not _fair. _I can handle field work!"

I stopped at the door to turn around and look at her, her cheeks pink from the exertion, and her wavy hair falling out of her hasty pony tail so it framed her heart shaped face. "I'm sure you can," I replied. "We'll see."

Then I left, before I did something stupid like be _nice _to her or something.

* * *

><p><em>Angela POV<em>

Stupid attractive git.

I wanted to throw my bottle at him.

But honestly, where was that going to get me? I was annoyed at him, sure, and then I was _worried _about him, like I actually cared for his well being. Which I didn't. And if I did, it was on a strict professional basis. You know, the kind of caring one colleague displayed towards another.

And why was he going back to work when I couldn't? I bet I looked way better than him. His dark circles had been more pronounced than usual, and if he didn't cut his hair soon, someone would mistake him for a caveman and he might get fired.

Oh, who was I kidding?

I flopped back against the pillow covers, the morning playing over and over in my head. The way that curse had hit him, the blood seeping through his shirt; the way he had literally pushed me out and told me to get out of there; did he actually believe I would leave him to fend for himself? Was this always how he worked? Did nobody care to tell him that maybe, maybe he was being too reckless and if he went on like that he would probably kill himself?

But how did it matter to me? I was just his apprentice, and damn if my opinion meant a knut.

Someone knocked on my door again. I groaned. If they actually expected me to _rest _then at least they should _let me rest._

"Come in," I mumbled, pulling down the hospital shift and trying to look as dignified as possible in this skimpy piece of clothing.

Ryan walked inside, grinning.

"How do you do, Woods?" he asked, sauntering towards me and pulling out a bunch of white carnations out of nowhere. "In honor of your first trip to the hospital as an Auror and just the first of many excruciating injuries." He was dressed in a light blue shirt, jeans, and sneakers; as usual.

I laughed, taking the flowers from him and burying my nose in the white blossoms. "Oh you shouldn't have," I gushed.

"Ah, but I did," he said grandly, and sitting down on the side of the bed.

Oh damn. Why did the Auror department have to be so full of attractive men? It wasn't fair.

I put the bouquet down on the nightstand, and beamed at him. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

He snorted. "You expect me to not come and visit you when you're knocked out at Mungo's? I came as soon as we got Wolfe sorted out."

"Oh!" I said, my fingers going to my mouth. "Shit, I forgot to ask. I don't remember what happened after...after..." I racked my brains. "I apparated there, right?" I looked up into his blue eyes.

He frowned. "Yeah. You were hurt. Badly. You managed to mumble out some words like 'daniel' and 'danger' and 'ravenshold' which was fine, but then you went out like a light bulb." He snapped his fingers to emphasize this point. I rolled my eyes.

"And then? Did you get them?"

"Wolfe was doing okay when we got there, but he seriously needed help. By the time we got there, we just had one dude left, and Wolfe was on his knees. Then the curse took effect and he collapsed."

"Collapsed?" I tried not to sound as concerned as I felt.

"Yeah. Don't blame him. He should have kept you there, though. I don't know why he sent you back. The two of you could have finished them off." He ruffled up his black hair.

I shrugged. "Maybe not. He's okay, though, right?"

He made a non committal gesture. "He should have stayed here. But he never does. He's gone back."

"I want to get back to work too," I whined. "Why can't I? Why does everyone insist on keeping me here?"

He patted my shoulder, and gave me a very unconvincing look of sympathy. "Don't be too hard on yourself. In a few weeks you'll be hoping for an injury so you can get some rest, even if _is _at a hospital. Chill- you're expected the day after tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay." I smiled at him.

"I should get going. I'll see you later, yeah?" he kissed me on the cheek and left.

I watched as he shut the door behind him. I looked around at the empty hospital room and felt strangely alone. I curled up in the bed under the covers and closed my eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. I fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

><p>"So. How was your first week?" Liam asked me, putting a glass in front of me.<p>

Loud music blared from the magical speakers floating in the corners of the pub. It was alive with the sound of clinking glasses and buzz of conversation. Maybe drinking as soon as I was discharged from St. Mungo's wasn't such a good idea, but I was dying to meet Liam and I couldn't wait for his shift to get over.

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old." I swirled the golden-brown firewhisky in my glass.

He raised a sceptic eyebrow.

"I doubt that, Angie," He wiped a glass as he spoke.

"Oh," I groaned, waving my arms in the air. "It's _hell, _Liam. I'm so overworked and my boss is an arse and I had to go to the hospital yesterday."

"You love every minute of it, don't you?" He grinned.

I grinned back. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"I'm not giving you any more of that. Stop making cute faces."

"You just gave me _one _glass."

"And that's more than enough for a woman of your age."

"I'm _twenty three!_"

"All I heard was bababababa I'm a baby."

I threw my napkin at him. "My boss is annoying."

He laughed. "I know. Daniel, right? He comes here a lot. He drinks a lot."

"He _does_ ? Is he, like, an alcoholic or something?" What interesting news! I knew I could always depend on Liam to tell me such things.

He rolled his eyes. "Definitely not. Don't go around spreading rumours."

I gasped in mock shock. "Me? Spread rumours about my boss? How can you think like that?!"

He made a disgusted face. "Mom and Dad want to meet you."

"What? We went to see them last week."

"They're _Mom and Dad._"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I'm going home," I muttered, shrugging into my coat. "Tell them they can come over if they want to meet their daughter so much. How's Kara?"

He smiled at the name. "She's good. Still won't go out with me, though."

"That's because she's a bitch. Go find someone better."

It was true. Liam was an attractive guy; he could get someone so much better. But he insisted on lolling behind this ridiculous woman who he found so beautiful he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was just playing hard to get, I reckoned.

He sighed. "Ah, well. You don't choose that kind of thing. It just sort of happens."

"Yeah," I mumbled back. "It just sort of happens."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Chapter seven will be up in a few days. Updates will come faster depending on reviews! So, please take out five seconds to write down whatever you thought of the chapter or the story so far. It makes me very happy, and you'll get faster updates. Thank you very much for reading! See you guys later. Cheers. XOXO**


	7. Chapter 7

Seven

The room was cold. Colder than the rest of the house, but that was expected. That was how he liked it. There was a fire cackling in the hearth, but with a sort of muted brightness to it as if the flames were uncomfortable within the icy walls.

Isaiah stared at the glowing embers, stared at the stone walls, stared and stared and stared. The windows were open, icy gusts of wind blowing in and making constant attempts to blow out the flames, which continued to resiliently refuse to be reduced to ashes.

There was a knock on the door.

He detested being disturbed in this manner, but he supposed it was important. He was seldom called upon otherwise.

He stood up, grabbing the black robe that hung loosely off the post off he bed, and draped it over his body. He was all bones and tight, pale skin; hollow cheeks and gaunt eyes, hair that hung around his face, shaggy and long and as black as a raven's wing.

Slowly, silently, he waved his hand and the fire went out. He allowed himself a smile. It was laughable, really, how easily the flames had vanished. How easily he snuffed out its life, the glowing vibrancy with which it cackled and flared mere seconds ago.

How delightful it was to not _care_, he thought.

Then he opened the door.

"Yes. Garfunk. What is it?"

The goblin bowed. "My Lord, your presence has been requested. If you grace us but for-

He raised a long fingered hand elegantly and his mouth snap shut. "Cease this grovelling and look at me while you speak. Are you having a conversation with your feet?"

"No, my lord, I-"

"Who demands my presence?" He began walking. Treading on the wooden floor so softly that he made no noise at all. He moved down the corridor like a phantom, almost hovering over the floor.

"Demand? My lord, not at all, it is merely a request-"

"If you continue to answer my questions with this babble I am afraid I shall have to find someone more respectable to replace you."

The goblin paled. "I beg your forgiveness, Lord. It is just that your orders have been carried out."

"Very well." He nodded, descending the stairs, the vile creature following him like a trail of slime he was leaving behind.

When he reached the room at the bottom of the stairs, he sat down on the armchair right in the middle of it, lounging comfortably. The room was dressed in shadows, darker than the last, and only tiny corners were lighted dimly by the flickering candles levitating in mid air.

"Speak," he said simply, putting a long, slender finger under his chin, and waiting,

The goblin emerged from the shadows, as if he had been hiding there this entire time. He was short and stout, like the others of his race, but he had a wild, unkempt look about him that denoted that he was not at all like the others of his face.

"Tornik. Lovely to see you."

Something furry brushed against Isaiah's legs. He smiled, picking up the black cat and placing it on his lap. She hissed at the goblin, showing a starting set of razor sharp teeth, and eyes that glowed red like the embers in his room.

Isaiah stroked her spine with a careful finger, the corners of his lips turned up in a sarcastic smile as he gazed upon the uncomfortable goblin,

"Don't mind Sabre. As long as you don't aggravate her, she will not harm you. And in any case, Sabre is not hungry right now. Are you, my love?"

Sabre purred.

Tornik cleared his throat. "My Lord," He bowed. "I have done as you asked me to do. I have staked them out."

"Have you, now?" he asked softly. "Let me see the list."

The goblin handed him a roll of parchment and a newspaper cutting. Isaiah unrolled it, pale, colourless eyes scanning the paper, his face expressionless.

"How many have we killed?"

"Two, as of now, of course, my Lord."

"And this is the third?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"A Ministry official, you say?"

"Yes, Lord. You said that you wanted to start off slow, so we decided that a lowly worker would suffice. Of course," He bowed, "if this is not up to your expectations, we will change this immediately."

"No," he said, his voice as dry as sandpaper, "This will be fine. When will this be done?"

"As soon as you wish, Lord."

"Good. Then I want to do this now. Notify the others." He rolled his wand between his fingertips, and even from several feet away, Tornik could feel the strange, uncanny power radiating from it, as if there was something were trapped within the wood, swirling endlessly with restless energy. He shuddered.

"Yes, My Lord." He bowed and left.

* * *

><p>The house stood several yards away from them. Isaiah crouched behind the bushes, with Tornik and two other goblins. He had chosen them for tonight, because he believed that they were going to be incredibly useful for him, and he would offer them tonight in return for their services.<p>

"Start walking," he commanded, softly. The still night air seemed to carry his words further then he would have liked. "Start walking and I will ensure you are not seen. But you will be fast. Go."

The goblins, of course, immediately obeyed him. They were dressed entirely in black, hats on their heads and scarves around their necks.

This was unnecessary, because he was confident in his ability to hide them. In any case, they insisted upon it, and he would allow them because this seemed like a petty reason to kill them. He _would _kill them of course, and he suspected they knew, but not now, when he still needed them.

When they reached the street right in front of the house, Isaiah emerged from his spot and quickly walked up to them, while they rang the doorbell of the house. The door opened after a full two minutes, and the man who had opened it had obviously just gotten out of bed.

"Hello?" he said, peering into the semi darkness. He couldn't see a thing. He wouldn't have been able to see anything if this was broad daylight. Isaiah kept his hands on their shoulders, and after a few seconds, pushed them in, and they passed through the door and the man as if they weren't there at all.

They stood there in the middle of the hideous living room, until the man had satisfied himself that there was nobody out there, and he closed the door, turning around after it was shut.

That was when he screamed.

All Isaiah had to do was raise his wand. His eyes rolled backwards in his head, and he crashed to the floor much like a sack of flour. Isaiah smiled and put the wand back under his robes. He was about to issue a command to the goblins when there was a frantic hammering of footsteps. The three of them turned to the upper corner of the room from where the sound was emanating, and a woman in a hair net was scrambling down the staircase, probably having heard the scream.

"John? JOHN? Darling, what ha-"

She froze at the sight of the intruders. Isaiah raised his wand at her. She stared at him, before imposingly puffing out her chest and saying. "I will have you know, sir, that this is the house of a Ministry official and you will be in Azkaban as soon as I raise the—"

"I admire bravery, madam, but at this point it is foolish." His lips curled up in the mockery of a smile. The wand buzzed under his fingertips.

"How _dare _you-" She noticed the goblins, "And what are these filthy—"

"Careful," Isaiah smiled again. "They don't take very kindly to insults."

The goblins made rude hand gestures at her to emphasize this point.

She seemed to notice her husband lying dead on the floor for the first time. "JOHN!" she screamed, rushing to him.

"This is growing tedious," Isaiah mused. "Tell me. Are there any more people in this house?"

She was frantically shaking her husband, sobbing hysterically, her hair net hanging off the side off her head. He was probably not going to get any answers, then. No worries. He would find out soon enough.

He flicked his wand. She stopped crying.

"Do as you will," Isaiah directed upon the goblins, and their ugly faces contorted with scornful glee as they fell upon the two bodies slumped over each other. Isaiah climbed upstairs. There were two more bedrooms, one which was probably the one the husband and his wife slept in, but there was another one, down the hall, smaller, and nestled against the corner was a bed heaped with pink blankets and pillows. Isaiah walked towards it, cocking his head at the sleeping form of the child. She slept peacefully, the gentle rise and fall of her chest indicating that she hadn't been disturbed at all by the commotion. He almost smiled. Downstairs her parents were being butchered and this girl hadn't the slightest idea. Isaiah found this all tremendously funny.

He felt something against his legs. He looked down. Sabre was looking up at him, the ruby red of her eyes glowing faintly in the light of the lamp that cast its yellow light across the room. She purred.

"No, you can't eat her, Sabre. That would be horribly unfair. I'm not even sure I should kill her. Should I, do you think?"

She rubbed against his legs in answer.

"It would cause _such _an uproar at the ministry, don't you think? They'd think the goblins _detestable, _actually killing children. Especially after we let the last one go."

Sabre hissed.

"You're right. I can't make assumptions, and I definitely _can't _take risks."

He raised his wand.

When he went downstairs, he found the goblins whispering and excitedly among themselves. He eyed the mutilated mess on the floor and nodded approvingly at them.

"Good. It's a bit more than last time, but I think it will do. Come, let us leave."

"There's someone else upstairs," one of them said matter-of-factly, looking at him.

"She's dead. Let's go."

"You're just going to leave her like that?" he asked, his eyes wide. "That is not apart of our agreement."

Isaiah smiled condescendingly. If the goblin looked closely, he would have immediately noticed the frigidity of his eyes, the way he stood up taller, the subtle hint of disapproval in the smile on his face.

"What agreement?" he asked.

"_The _agreement. We can have our way with them once you've done the fancy wand work."

Isaiah actually chuckled. Perhaps the other goblin noticed the changes on his expression. He nudged his friend. "Shut up, shut up," he mumbled.

"No, no. Let him speak. What do you presume me to about it, then?" he directed his attention to the disgruntled creature.

"We're to have our way with them," he repeated. "You promised." He sneered. "Or are you growing too soft-"

The goblin was dead before he could finish his sentence.

Isaiah turned to the one that was still alive. "Do you have any complaints?" he asked lightly.

"N-no, my Lord."

"That's very good. Come, let us go."

They left the house, locked the door, and from outside it gave away no signals that anything out of the ordinary had happened there. The goblin breathed a sigh of relief. His Lord had managed to do it again.

"Do you have the decoy?" he asked as they exited the street.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Do you remember where you are to deposit it?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Good."

They continued to walk down the darkened pathway, his Lord walking in front of him, his form occasionally being thrown into light as they walked under the dim light of the streetlamps. And in the hazy shadow of the night, it almost seemed to him, or to his overactive imagination, that there were _horns _on that shaggy head of his.

* * *

><p><em>Angela POV<em>

I was lounging on the couch watching Doctor Who (how on _earth_ did we get about without television to distract us all those years ago? Muggles used to have all the fun.) and eating chocolate pudding when Higgly came to hiss at me, notifying me that somebody was about to ring the doorbell. Then she hopped on my lap to ensure that I did not open the door. Of course, then it rang and I had to push her off. She made a disgusted noise halfway between a hiss and a growl and insisted on following me to find out who I was taking such pains for.

It turned out to be Ryan.

"Hey, you," he grinned at me.

"Ryan," I said, sounding surprised, and maybe a little bit embarrassed. I was wearing ridiculous pink pyjama bottoms with teddy bears on them and a white tank top. "Hi."

"Erm...I'm quite game with carrying on a conversation here, on the doorstep, but I _should_ tell you that I'm only slightly uncomfortable." He cocked his head at me.

"Oh, oh, I'm so sorry, come in, come in," I repeated, opening the door wider and allowing him to get inside. I closed the door behind him.

He looked really nice; his curly hair all messed up, and he was wearing a grey-t shirt and a dark blue hoodie and jeans and the ratty sneakers.

His eyes flicked over me, and he pursed his lips, evidently trying to prevent himself from laughing.

"Nice pyjamas," he finally said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Sit down, I'll get you some tea."

"No, I'll-" he suddenly noticed Higgly, who was rubbing against his legs, probably trying to be subtle, and probably trying to get him to notice her. "That's a cat," Ryan finally said.

"No, she's a kneazle," I corrected him, picking her up and unceremoniously throwing her to the other side of the room, where she landed with a soft _thump _on the carpet. She made an extremely displeased noise and stalked out of the room, probably jealous of my new friend.

He eyed my messy living room, unconsciously ruffling up his hair as he did so. "Come on," I told him. "Sit down," and I literally pushed him on to the sofa.

"So, what's up? Why'd you come over? And how do you my address?" I tucked my feet under me,

He leaned back luxuriously. "I stalked you," he said, matter of factly. "I've been stalking you for _days_. I know for a fact that you're engaged to Steve."

I threw a pillow at him. "Your jokes are not funny."

"They are _tremendously_ funny. You just have no sense of humour."

"Tell me why you're here, you git."

"I came to inquire after your well being. Since you returned from Mungo's yesterday. How are you?" He took off his hoodie.

"I'm very well, thank you. Is that the only reason you came?"

"Sort of. Yeah. Missed you." _Oh_. I didn't know how to feel about that.

"You saw me yesterday," I said, lamely.

He smiled crookedly, and it reminded me, just for a moment, of Daniel. _Stop it._

"Ye-ee-s," he repeated. "But it was so terribly _dull_ not seeing your pretty face the very next day. I couldn't bear a single minute without you. It's so woeful," he finished, and dramatically plopped his head on my lap.

"You're an idiot," I muttered, pushing him off.

There was another knock on the door. This time I just hollered, "Come in!"

The door opened and Liam strode into the room, his spiky brown hair in disarray, his apron thrown over his shoulder.

Ryan suddenly shot away from me and sprawled magnificently on the other end of the couch, mock saluting Liam. "Hello, hello."

Liam narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"This is Ryan Blake, from work," I answered for him. "Be nice," I added as a warning,

Liam snorted. "I'm always nice. Even to men who clearly want to shag you."

"Liam!" I screeched, throwing a pillow at him. I wanted to throw the entire couch. I was running dangerously low on pillows.

Ryan went scarlet.

He dodged the pillow easily. "So, anyway, the reason why I came here-"

"Yes, _please _tell me why you intruded so mercilessly when I was _clearly _having a most lovely afternoon."

"- was to tell you," he continued, ignoring my scathing answer, "That mother and father demand your presence today for lunch. In fact, they want you this very instant."

"Then I should go," Ryan suddenly said, very loudly, and made a very unnecessary display of getting up and getting his hoodie.

"No," I ordered, and he stopped immediately, looking at me, something akin to fear in his eyes. "No," I repeated, then looked at him, smiling my most charming smile. I threw my hair over my shoulder and fluttered my eyes flirtatiously. I probably looked hideous, but I was hoping that Ryan would find it terribly attractive. "Please come to lunch with me. With my parents. You're going to have a delightful time." I smiled again, a bit coquettishly, only for the purpose of getting him to agree, of course. Otherwise lunch with my parents was going to be absolutely, horribly, detestably _boring_.

"Eh...I'd much rather not..." he said slowly, and the fear in his eyes only increased as I contorted my face into the most disgusting expression. I went for stoic.

"Ugh, just come on. I don't want to go. Everyone is going to be breathing down my back and asking me weird questions and if I bring you they'll be bound by formality to speak to _you_. And eat quickly so we can leave quickly."

Liam looked outraged. "You can't bring random men into the house."

I gasped in mock shock and covered Ryan's ears. "How dare you! Ryan can hear you, you know. And he isn't a random bloke. He's my friend. Now shut up and let me change. I am going to bring him no matter what." I stalked off.

"You know, I really don't want to impose.." Ryan trailed off lamely.

"Good, then don't," Liam muttered obnoxiously.

"Nonsense, you have to come," I screamed from my bedroom.

"You're being ridiculous," Liam shouted from the living room.

"No _you're _being ridiculous," I argued.

"How well do you even know him?"

"Stop treating me like a child."

"Stop _acting_ like one."

I stamped out of my bedroom, dressed in jeans and a sweater. "_I am not acting like a child_," I seethed.

"Yes, you are," he repeated annoyingly.

I narrowed my eyes. He narrowed his.

"Hey, weren't we supposed to be going somewhere?" Ryan asked again, using that strange loud voice.

"_We _were, _you _were not." Liam crossed his arms.

"You're wrong again. All three of us are going. I'm apparating there, and I've locked the house, and then you can do what you like."

"You're so _troublesome_."

"Yes, I know, now hold my hand so we can go and get this over with."

"They're our _parents_, you can't just-"

The three of apparated out of there before he could finish his sentence.

We re-appeared in front of two storied brick building with a little picket fence around it and a rusty swing set and an apple tree in the over-grown backyard.

Ryan looked highly uncomfortable. I wondered how he was putting up with this. Maybe Liam was right. Maybe he _did _want to shag me. It was always possible. I was a highly attractive human being. Well, at least Higgly thought so. Or maybe not. Yes, even Higgly's liking for me was doubtful. At least when I wasn't bringing her food.

We rang the bell.

My mother opened it, and despite how much I detested coming for this lunch, I was glad to see her, and I hugged her tightly. She looked a bit tired, like she always did, and her brown hair was tied back in a loose pony tail. Liam hugged her next, and she patted his back and kissed him like he was her favourite kid. I scowled.

Then she noticed Ryan and stared at him for a second before she broke into an all out grin, and said, "Hello, love. Friend of Angie's, I think? Come in, come in!" She bustled us all into the room, and then Ryan said hello properly, taking her hand and kissing it and complimenting her subtly while she blushed and gushed like a flighty teenager.

Then my dad came in, his glasses askew and his bright red hair sticking out every which way. He hugged me, and he smelled like paper and books and home and it was absolutely delightful, even though I had expected it not to be. He shook Ryan's hand and probably would have been extremely disapproving of him if he hadn't been an Auror.

Then we all sat down for lunch.

My parents were fascinated with Ryan, and the fact that he was an auror and so _terribly young _to boot. They heaped his plate with roast chicken and mashed potatoes until Ryan could eat no more and sat with a very uncomfortable expression on his face.

"So, honey, have you been on any _adventures_ lately?" my mother leaned forward and asked excitedly.

I rolled my eyes and concentrated on the carrot cake. "No _adventures_, mum, they're field trips, and they're horrible."

"But they're enjoyable, aren't they, darling?" my father asked. "Aren't they, Mr. Blake?"

"Oh, please call me Ryan," he replied. "And yes, they are quite enjoyable, when you put it that way, sir."

Dad didn't bother to ask him to call him by his name.

"Liam, darling, how long are you going to work at that _pub_? You had that nice job in Africa, documenting Fwoopers-"

"And Erumpets and Dragons, which is why, I constantly remind you, I came back, mum- and I'm only working there for a while-"

"But you can do so much _more_, darling, why do you—"

My mother's monologue was brought to an abrupt end when an owl came swooping in through the open window and landed right in the middle of the crisps.

I recognized the golden plumage immediately. "It's from Daniel," I explained, and I had no idea why my heart had suddenly started to beat very fast with the awareness of this fact.

"Daniel? Oh yes, your boss, isn't he?" my father asked, interestedly.

I nodded absently as I disentangled the letter from her claws. I felt Ryan's gaze on me as I unrolled the parchment. I scanned it.

"What is it?" Ryan asked.

"We have to get to the Ministry. Now." I got up.

"Why?" all four of them chorused. But I just handed the letter to Ryan.

He saw the hastily scrawled word on the sheet of parchment:

_There's been another murder. Come immediately._

_Daniel_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So this was Chapter Seven. Sorry if it's kind of vague and uninteresting. I'm working on Chapter Eight right now, which will make up for the dull ones I've been giving you. Hold tight, I'll have it ready pretty soon. Meanwhile, please review! I'll update faster! :D**

**Cheers! Have a nice week.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you for the follows and favourites. They made me very, very happy. Reviews make me happier :D.**

_Eight_

Ryan and I apparated there immediately, after of course, explaining to my parents exactly what had happened and why I was being so desperately _insensitive _and cutting this lunch short when it had been so difficult to get a hold of me. I complained very loudly that they were being melodramatic and this was my job and could they just please hold it together in front of Ryan or was that far too much of a struggle?

The Auror office was always loud and noisy. But when we arrived, it was positively _chaotic_. I could see Katie standing at her desk, her usually perfect blonde hair tied on a top knot on the top of her head while she was half buried under a pile of messages. Three owls were perched impatiently around her, waiting for her to take their letters while they squawked and squawked, clearly displeased with her.

I didn't really envy her.

Her eyes widened at the sight of me, and she literally screamed, "Miss Woods! Mr. Wolfe needs you. _Right away_." I rolled my eyes. He was _always _melodramatic. He would get along with my parents quite well.

Inside, people were running around and shouting and there was a great deal of general commotion.

A certain sense of foreboding dogged my steps. What was so spectacular about this third murder that had thrown everyone into a tizzy?

Someone immediately dragged Ryan away when we went inside. So I went down the corridor alone and knocked on Daniel's door.

"Come in!" he snapped.

When I came in, I found him sitting cross legged on the floor, without any shoes on, surrounded by newspaper articles and rolls of parchment. He had either been dragged here in the middle of the night, or he hadn't gone home at all. He looked tired, even though his dark brown hair was artfully tousled and the stubble on his cheeks and chin shouldn't even have looked that good. Hell, _he _shouldn't have looked that good, but he always managed to, anyway. I would look like a zombie if I had been pulled out of my bed and thrown into the office in the middle of the night. Clearly, these natural laws didn't seem to apply to him. In any case, he looked hassled and harried and just stared at the piles of paper around him, his fingertips pressed to his temples.

"Good afternoon," I said, carefully. I hadn't known him for very long, but even I could tell when he was in one of his _moods_.

"Miss Woods," he looked up at me, and I wanted to tell him to go eat something or just get out of this office because his eyes had dark shadows under them, and he looked paler than usual. "You got my letter, I presume?"

"Yes," I said, still choosing my words carefully. Was he going to blow up suddenly if I said something wrong? Because that was usually what his moods entailed.

"There's been another murder," he informed me, leaning back against the desk, frowning. "Someone who works at the Ministry. His wife. His _child_. She was hardly eight years old. The murderer is a psychopath." His lip curled in disgust.

"Really?" I asked, my spine tingling. A child? Holy shit. I sat down in front of him, eager to know more. A ministry official? Murdered? Now I understood what all the commotion was about.

"Yes. Richards is breathing down my neck for an answer, and I am unable to provide him with one. Silver and his team are at the scene, poking and prodding the bodies, and Blake and Williams are at the Liaisons office, trying to get a hold on the situation there. And nobody has any fucking _answers_." He crumpled up a newspaper cutting and sent it sailing over my head.

"The Prophet's gone mad, hasn't it?" I asked, remembering the owls hovering over Katie.

"The Prophet's gone on a _rampage_," he scowled. "Articles upon articles about how _inefficient _the Ministry has become." He gestured to the rubbish around him. "And there's nothing in the records that would help. Ugh." He groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

"But we have leads," I protested.

"What leads?" he frowned at me. "There are no leads. That is precisely why I have been here since last night."

"We nearly died at Ravenshold," I reminded him. "But we found something out. Lycan told us about Narvark. Griffinswood, he said."

Daniel's jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened, just as they had done that day. Why? What was so terrible about Griffinswood?

"Narvark was last _sighted _there. There's a difference. I don't even know how long ago that was. It would be a complete waste of time. And it might be a trick." He suddenly became very interested in a roll of parchment.

"You thought that Angus was playing a trick that day, but we got some useful information. You took a risk. You can take a risk again."

He looked at me, his lip curling. I had seen that look before. It was not pleasant. It was usually when Daniel was just downright _pissed off _about something. "Am I the boss here, or are you?" he hissed, suddenly standing up and flinging the parchment on the table. I scrambled to my feet, and tried not to be intimidated by the death glare he was giving me. He was much taller than me, which kind of made it difficult to stare straight into his eyes when he wasn't bending.

"This is ridiculous," I snapped right back at him. "What if this is what we need? What if we get a lead from this? Why are you so bent upon not going?"

"I'm sorry, were you suffering from the illusion that I was in some way obliged to justify my actions to you?" He narrowed his eyes at me, his blue gaze frigid and unyielding, his lips turning down at the corners in disapproval.

"Listen," I said, trying to down my anger- even though he didn't deserve it, because, yes, he was an asshole, but he _was _my boss, and for whatever misguided reason whatsoever, I had to display some amount of respect towards him, whether I liked it or not. Which I didn't. He was being remarkably childish and immature and not to mention rude, (which against my better judgment, I was actually becoming _used _to, by now, which in itself, was frankly quite alarming) but he was an Auror and he couldn't act like this. "This might be _helpful_." I wanted to say a lot more, but I restrained myself.

He screwed his eyes shut, like he was in pain and pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, like he was trying to restrain his anger. "When I_ want _advice from you, Miss Woods," he said, his voice dangerously soft, "I will _ask _you. But don't imagine for a second that you are in a position to dictate what I should, or should not do."

Then he ran both his hands through his hair, making it even messier than it was before. Then he opened his eyes, his eyes blazing. "We're not going to Griff-" he swallowed. "That village."

Why was he acting like this? He needed to get a grip on himself, and would it hurt him to be less like a spoilt child? "_Sir_," I said, spitting out the word distastefully. "We can't let an opportunity go to waste. We might find out something useful, surely even you can understand that. Come on. Let's go."

"Now wait just a moment," he said, raising up his index finger to silence me, his voice low and almost menacing. "Are you currently in the belief that even if I _do _go, I will take you with me?"

"Of course. I'm your apprentice. I work with you."

"No," he corrected, his lips forming a perfect 'O' as he uttered the word, and his finger wagging from side to side as if to emphasize his refusal. "No you definitely do not work _with _me, I work _alone_- and, for the time being, at least- I get to decide where you are allowed to go, and I am not going to take you out again, not after last time."

"I'm not your _secretary,_" I seethed, my temper rising. I wanted to strangle him.

"No, you are most definitely not," he agreed, putting down his hand and crossing his arms over his chest instead, leaning against the edge of the table. "But you are, as you said so yourself-my apprentice. And I am not going to take you out on some half baked, suicidal mission, especially when I have absolutely _no idea _what it entails."

"You never know what a mission entails!" I shouted at him, spreading my arms wide. "But you go anyway! And I'm an Auror, for Christ's sake! I can _handle _myself. And if you were alone last time you could have _died_. You can't go alone, then it would _actually_ be suicidal."

He looked furious, and I could tell that he was about to come back with a scathing retort, but he seemed to change his mind at the last moment. "Very well," he whispered, his voice dangerously low. "I will take you. We'll go to _Griffinswood_," he spat the word out like it was 'Hell' or 'a brothel' , "But I don't know how much protection I will be able to provide-"

"I don't need _protection-_"

-"but since you're so bent upon going on this absolutely useless expedition, I'm assuming I'll have to shoulder some of the responsibility of ensuring you don't die."

"You don't have to-"

"You're _my _apprentice, so if you_ do _die, it will be my fault, especially as_ I'm _the one taking you out."

"Well, at least we're doing something. You said so yourself, these articles were getting you nowhere." I made an all-encompassing gesture at the piles of newspaper cuttings all around him.

He rolled his eyes. "You're exceptionally presumptuous," he muttered, bending down to pick up some of the other rubbish on the floor and putting it back on his desk. I'll admit it; I saw the opportunity and took it. He had a _brilliant _arse.

"I know," I replied superiorly. "And what's with your aversion to Griffinswood anyway? Have you been there?"

He stilled momentarily, his fingers trembling only slightly, before tidying up the papers again. "I have no _aversion _to going to Griffinswood," he said, his voice guarded again, careful, restrained, like he felt like throwing something at me and was preventing himself from doing so with great difficulty.

"You obviously-

"I have an aversion to wasting time," he countered before I could finish, shrugging into that leather jacket he always seemed to wear over his work clothes. He sounded confident enough when he said that, but his eyes and his stance said something else entirely; shoulders drawn in too tight, like he was protecting himself from a physical attack. There was obviously something he wasn't telling me, but I didn't think I would get anything out of pushing him except maybe a few glares and a couple of insults.

He tugged on his hi tops. Even _he _wore sneakers, like a sodding teenager. No one here seemed to have any idea of work ethics.

"So, I'm assuming you know where Griffinswood is?" I asked, re-tying my hair and putting my wand securely in the waistband of my jeans.

"Oh yeah," he replied, his expression darkening, "I know very well."

* * *

><p>For a moment, I thought I was back in Ravenshold.<p>

It was safe to say that Griffinswood was very similar; the only difference was that this was clearly an affluent area. The houses were the same kind of bleak and dank, but huge and stately, the streets lined with leafy trees. It was almost two in the afternoon, and the sun was bright; but it was still kind of cold.

"So," I said briskly, looking at him expectantly.

We were standing in the shade of an overhanging tree at the side of the avenue, Daniel leaning against the trees with his arms crossed over his chest. He glowered at me.

"You can't glare at me forever," I pointed out. "I'll just keep walking. Then maybe I'll die and it'll be your fault."

He rolled his eyes. Running a hand through his hair, he muttered. "I am as lost as you are. What can we do here? I don't even know when this last sighting was."

"Isn't there someone you can ask? Look, I know you didn't want to come here, but now that we're here, we might as well do something. You know a lot of people. Someone will know something."

His lips flattened into a straight line. "It's not as easy as you think," he grumbled.

"Merlin, you're so _annoying_. How on earth do you ever get any work done?"

He scowled. "Fine. Yes. I know someone who can help. But don't harbour any hopes." He extracted himself from the tree and started walking ahead of me, his hands deep in his pockets. I had no idea where we were going, but I walked beside him silently, glad he had finally stopped moping and was springing into some action.

But I could tell he was not happy to be here. I looked around, drinking in everything, mentally taking down anything that could help us with this Narvark character. But Daniel looked down as he walked, his shoulders drawn in and his jaw set. I noticed how the sun made his dark hair look like burnished copper, how his pale skin looked slightly healthier. I almost felt bad about dragging him here, but unless he told me why he was so against the idea, I couldn't help it. The case was going nowhere, and we needed some new leads. This was the best we had, and I'm sure even he knew that if he didn't support my plan I might just run away and find out for myself.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

He sighed. "Someone I know. He used to work at the Ministry. He's retired now. But he might help us."

"Why do you think so? Where'd he work?"

"Liaisons Office. He had a loose tongue. He'll answer my questions, which is more than what I can say about anyone else."

"So...you've been here before?"

He pursed his lips, like he was thinking carefully about how to answer. He was still looking at his feet. "For a while," he said, after a few seconds.

I wanted to ask him more, but I decided against it. Instead, I asked, "So, are we close?"

"Yes," he replied, turning a corner into a street that was slightly darker, with less trees, and bleaker buildings. "He lives here."

The street was narrower here, and we kept walking till the end of the lane. We stopped in front of a two storey, colonial style building with white columns in front and a fancy porch. There were three steps leading up to the door.

Daniel looked up at the building and stared at it for a few seconds, eyes crinkled at the corners, his lips parted, like he was remembering something. Then he took a deep breath, and ran both hands through his hair (which I had realised he did whenever he was nervous) and jumped up the stairs, ringing the griffin-shaped doorbell quickly; like he was worried he would step back if he moved too slowly. I stood behind him, wondering why he was hesitating so much. He never hesitated about _anything_. He was so confident about his actions, in fact, that it was annoying and I constantly felt like cursing his swollen head off.

Then the door opened.

The man looked like he was in his fifties; plump, with bushy grey hair and a dark, scraggly beard. His eyes were pale grey, and he was wearing a fluffy jumper over his pants. He stared at us, narrowing his eyes and pushing up the circular glasses perched on his nose.

"Yes? How may I help you?" His accent was smooth, polished, perfect Upper Crust, is what I would call it.

"Afternoon, Quentin," Daniel replied smoothly, "It's been a long time."

He squinted. "I'm not quite sure what-" then his eyes widened. "Merlin's beard, _Daniel? _Is that you?"

Daniel let out a long breath, like he did when he was particularly exhausted. "I'm afraid so. This is my college, Angela Woods-" Quentin shook hands with me without really registering what he was doing. I think he was still in a state of shock. "If it's not asking too much, do you think we can come in?"

Quentin showed us into the living room, which was as posh as I had expected it to be; all white leather couches, plush carpets and marble floors. It was the kind of house you were afraid to walk around in, because you might accidentally break something. The walls were covered with portraits, and the people in them sniffed disapprovingly down at us.

Daniel sat down gingerly on the sofa, and I sat down beside him. He seemed so bloody _tensed_, I wanted to shake his shoulders until he would loosen up.

Finally, after telling a house elf to get us some tea, he sat down opposite, and simply looked at Daniel like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"I don't understand," he finally said, his voice still incredulous. "Why did you come back?"

Daniel rubbed his eyes. "I didn't want to," he muttered. "And I haven't_ come back_. I'm leaving as soon as we're done here."

Quentin nodded. "Of course. I never expected to see you anyway, after-"

"In any case," Daniel interrupted hurriedly, clearing his throat. "I came here to ask you for help."

"And I'll help you, my boy," he answered, taking the tea cups from the house elf who had appeared with a tea tray. "But surely, you'll meet-"

"Quentin," Daniel said, his voice low, laced with warning. "I'm not interested. If you can help me, help me. I'm not here to talk about that."

He sighed deeply. "Yes, of course not. I understand," He turned to me. "Miss Woods, I apologise for this. Tell me, what is it that you and Daniel need?"

"Well," I looked at Daniel for some encouragement, but he was just looking sullenly at Quentin like a sulking teenager. "_Well_. This _is _to do with those murders. Thing is, we've got a lead, but it doesn't make sense. One of our informers told us that we should get in touch with a certain goblin, he would know, and he would tell us something useful. He was last sighted here, in Griffinswood, and his name is Narvark. Have you heard of him?"

Quentin raised his bushy eyebrows. Putting his tea cup down, he said, "Narvark? Who told you his name? He is one of the most elusive criminals I have ever encountered in my life."

Daniel suddenly roused from his sulk. "Encountered? You've _met _him?"

"Oh, yes. You know I was an Auror, Daniel. And you're right, he was last sighted here, and I can confirm that because _I _was the one that saw him."

"What?" I asked, surprised. "How the hell-"

Quentin held up a hand. "You might as well have gone to Richards and asked him for my file. It's classified information, which is why it isn't in the public archives. But it's there. Narvark is dangerous, Daniel. Why do you want to tangle with him?"

Daniel and I looked at each other. Then I spoke. "Because he has answers. What kind of dangerous?"

"He may kill you. Surely your informer hinted at that."

"He did," I agreed. "But he said that if we gave him something, he'd help."

Quentin shrugged. "Over the years perhaps he has grown soft. I don't know. I would advise you _not _to meet him, but if you think it's important, well, who am I to say no?"

Daniel shook his head. "Your advice makes no difference, because we don't know how or where to find him. Until we have leads on that, we're just at another dead end."

"Is Fox still around?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Then tell him to find him. If anyone can do that, he can. Why haven't you asked him yet?"

A dark look passed over Daniel's face. "Because the last time I saw him, Angus almost got us killed. I nearly cut off his legs to return the favour. I don't know if he'll help us again. But I can try, if you insist."

"I do _not _insist, in fact. But that's your best chance."

Daniel nodded. Then he got up, jutting his chin at me to do the same. We shook hands. "Thanks, Quentin," Daniel said quietly. His tone was different; softer somehow.

"You're welcome, my boy. I'm sorry you had to come here."

Daniel's adam's apple bobbed skittishly. "Don't be. I'll see you. Bye." Then he grabbed my elbow to drag me away. I wanted to smack him, and I might have, but then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Daniel said, moving towards the door.

That's when things got a little weird.

"No, no, that's fine!" Quentin said, suddenly very loud. "Erm, could you just go and put these cups in the kitchen?"

Daniel frowned. "You could just ask-"

"Oh no," he replied, stuffing the tray into his hands. "I'd much rather you do it. You know Yipi, she's _so _clumsy. Go, in the kitchen, please."

"Shouldn't you open the door first?" I asked, a bit confused at how flighty this dude was being.

Daniel looked pissed. "Who's at the door, Quentin?" he asked.

"No one. I mean, no one important. It's probably the maid or something. Could you put the cups-"

"No," Daniel muttered, dropping the tray into my hands and throwing the door open.

He froze.

The lady at the door was younger than Quentin, probably in her late forties. She had dark brown hair, liberally streaked with grey, plaited down her back. She wore simple black robes, and was thin, and willowy, with vestiges of good looks on her pale face.

Her fingers went to her mouth.

She and Daniel seemed to stare at each other for an eternity. The expression on his face was unreadable; his mouth was half open in shock, his brow furrowed; he looked uncomprehending, and there was a sort of, _awe _to his face, like this creature was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. I looked at Quentin, and he looked like he had swallowed something extremely bitter.

"Um, is everything-"

"_Dany?" _ she whispered uncomprendingly. "W-wh-how-"

"Ms. Benett," Daniel tried to say it evenly, but his voice trembled ever so slightly.

Then she did something I had never seen _anyone _do to Daniel.

She threw her arms around him. "Oh, my darling boy!" she crooned. Daniel stood ramrod straight, his hands stretched out slightly like he didn't know what to do.

"Ms..Benett," he said again, like he was incapable of saying anything else.

Then she pulled away from him, and kissed him on both his cheeks. What the hell was going on? Who was she? I turned to look questioningly at Quentin, but he was staring at the scene unfolding in front of him with a sort of panic.

"I-erm- I-it's good to see you," Daniel stammered. Stammered? Daniel never stammered. But now he had paled so much he almost looked sickly, and his fingers were trembling.

"What are you doing here? Why are you here? Is something wrong? Oh, Daniel, it's been _years_! What were you _thinking? _You could come and see me, at least, sometimes-

"Please calm down-" Daniel started to speak.

"Well, I suppose now that you're a great big Ministry official you couldn't care less, but I expected better! At least for me, well, but now I see that I was wrong-"

"Ms. Benett, please-" he looked nervously at me. I didn't say a word. This was something I was not supposed to see, clearly, evidently. I didn't know what it was about, but it made some sense to me- and what I understood was that this was private, and I was intruding.

"I'll, erm- I'll wait outside," I muttered.

She seemed to notice me for the first time. "Oh, I'm so sorry, my dear," she said, smiling at me. "I didn't see you there. Friend of Daniel's?"

"I uh-" I stumbled with my words, a bit surprised at the sudden change of direction.

"A college," Daniel corrected, and a bit of colour returned to his cheeks. "I need to go."

"Now wait just a moment!" Ms. Bennett said angrily, grabbing his arm to prevent him from leaving. "You come here after so long-"

"I've been away for a reason!" Daniel snapped. Ms. Bennett released him from her grip, a bit surprised at his outburst.

"Dany, I understand-"

"Don't call me that," he hissed. "I didn't want to come here. You know why."

"But at least-"

"No," he said, and his tone made the word more official. "I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you enough." His voice softened. "But I couldn't. And you know why. I'm going to go now. I'll owl you."

"_Owl _me?" Ms. Bennett sounded scandalised. Daniel was at the door, about to leave when she seethed, "_Daniel Wolfe_. You stop right there."

He flinched at the tone of her voice, and turned around to look at her. She was fuming.

"How _dare _you. You come back after years, and now you leave, and now you say you'll _owl _me-"

Daniel looked like he was at a loss. "Look, I _need to get out of here_."

Her expression softened, and she looked at Daniel like she truly understood what he was saying. "Oh, dear, I know. But I haven't seen you for _so long_." She finished her sentence almost on a plea.

Daniel looked torn. I just stood there like a fool, watching it like with a kind of fascination I couldn't name.

"Fine," he said, his shoulders slumping. "I'll stay. But not for long."

She smiled at him, which really told me she liked him. I hadn't seen anyone smile at him like that, or him smile like that at anyone.

"Come along then," she said happily. Then to me, "You too, my dear. I'd love to talk to the both of you."

Then Daniel looked at me, and I had this crazy urge to wrap him in a hug and tell him to calm down. His expression was careful, guarded, as he looked at me; but I understood. He was gauging my reaction, and he was asking for something. Patience? Acceptance? He pursed his lips, his gaze still on mine. I didn't know what he expected me to do or say. He had clearly not wanted me to see this, but now that I had, he himself wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to me. He raised his eyebrows like he was asking a question.

I nodded at him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, I hope this makes up for the slight delay! If you enjoyed it, please review! They make me very happy, and keep me motivated. Chapter eight coming right up.**

**Cheers! X.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you for your follows and favourites, guys! Hope you like this chapter! **

**Now would probably be a nice time to mention that this started out as a birthday present for my beta, umempfindlich. She's crazy awesome, and if you have time, take a look at some of her work. :D**

* * *

><p><em>Nine<em>

**_Daniel POV_**

I couldn't _breathe_.

I did not want to be here. Every muscle, every nerve, every bloody cell seemed to be screaming, shouting at me to get out. I felt like I was drowning. It was almost physically painful to set foot here.

I told myself to stop acting like a fool. Tried to restrain in this idiocy. But it was so. Fucking. Hard. I wanted to run, run, run, and never look back. How long had it been? Seven, eight, nine...ten..nine? Almost a decade. How old I been? Sixteen? Seventeen? I couldn't remember, I didn't _want _to remember. Those things were in the furthest reaches of my memory, thrice locked in a chest and thrown into the depths of my consciousness, where I couldn't find it even if I tried.

And here I was, staring at Ms. Bennett in the face and every fucking thing I had tried to forget came rushing back like a crashing wave and I wanted to curl up in a corner and go to sleep, end this madness.

Damn it. I was twenty six and here I was acting like a fucking kid.

_Keep it together. Keep it together, _I repeated in my head like a mantra while she spoke to me. _Get a grip on yourself, what will Angela think? _Oh Merlin, Angela. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted to come here, hadn't wanted her to see. What kind of things was she going to deduce when she looked upon this drama? She's not supposed to see me like this. _No one _is supposed to see me like this. Helpless, pliable, _frightened_. No. Never again. I couldn't be scared. _Refused _to be scared. There was nothing to be frightened of, in any case. This was Ms. Bennett, right? She's not- not _them_. They're different, and you've always seen them differently. They represent two different things, and that is why you can handle this.

_Keep it together for Angela's sake, at least._

"Listen. I- I think I should go. To the Ministry, I mean."

Both Mrs. Bennett and I turned to look at her.

That was when I felt a sudden flare of panic. It was stupid, really. Illogical. Irrational. She could go. She _should _go, in fact. I didn't even want her here, right? And yet- yet- there was this crazy fear inside me, like I couldn't do this if she wasn't here. I couldn't face this alone. I was keeping calm all this while because she was here, and now she wanted to leave? No. No. I couldn't allow this.

"Yeah, of course you can go." I looked her. She looked back, her green eyes unfathomable. I had no idea what she was thinking. Something along the lines of how pathetic I was, probably. I didn't blame her. This whole situation screamed 'pathetic'.

But why did I care about her opinion anyway?

"Oh, no, dear, please stay. We can talk," Ms. Bennett smiled at her. Usually when Ms. Bennett smiled people listened to her. I did, at least.

But Angela shook her head. "No, it's fine. I'll apparate back. I'll tell Steve and Ryan about what we heard. And Quentin said something about checking the records? I'll-uh- do that." She bit her lip. Even in this situation I found that kind of hot. _Stop it_.

It was smart, what she was saying. She was smart. Reasonable. Logical. Rational. But I still didn't want her to go. Damn it, why was I being such an idiot? Send her off. _Do you really want her to know about your messed up life?_

"No, it's okay. Come on." I tried to keep a straight face while saying that. I hope I succeeded.

"Lovely," Ms. Bennett said, and she smiled that special smile of hers and I felt kind of better. And then I felt guilty. I should have spoken to her more. Almost a decade since I had last seen her, if I was seventeen last.

I was glad to see her. Almost.

* * *

><p><em>Angela POV<em>

I had found myself in an extremely awkward situation. I could tell Daniel did not want me to be privy to this, and I respected that; but then he was being annoyingly _polite _and Ms. Bennett was such a lovely woman and I did not want to say no to her.

Daniel looked _very _uncomfortable, his body tensed like he was ready to bolt any second. I wish I knew why, but I knew he would never tell me.

When we apparated, I was a little confused.

Ms. Bennett was clearly a lady who worked at other people's houses, and yet the house that stood in front of me did not look like the kind of home that she would own. It was big, maybe about three stories, made of red brick, with huge bay windows and a fancy wrap around porch; a huge backyard in the back that went on for miles.

"Where-"

"What the _fuck_," Daniel suddenly shouted, whipping his head around to glare at Ms. Bennett. Oh my god. He looked furious. "Why the _hell _would you bring me here?" he was literally screaming. We were going to start attracting attention soon. Ugh.

Ms. Bennett swallowed. "Now, listen to me, Dany-"

"No," he snapped, his mouth a hard, straight line. "Don't 'Dany' me. What the fuck were you thinking? I'm leaving." Then he grabbed me and started walking away very fast. Of course, Ms. Bennett followed.

"Dany, listen to me for a second, please, darling-" she stepped in front of him and grabbed his shoulders. I stepped back. He stopped, seething, barely being able to control his temper. The only thing that was holding him together, I guessed, was his liking of Ms. Bennett.

"Why?" he whispered. "Why would you bring me here?" he repeated.

"She wants to see you." Ms. Bennett pleaded.

She? His mother, maybe?

Daniel's lip curled in disgust. "And why the bloody hell would I care?"

She shook her head. "No, no, love. I mean Vivienne."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Why would she be here? Shouldn't she be in school?"

Sister?

"It's the holidays, darling. Please. You haven't seen her for years."

"Two. It's been two years."

"At least meet her. She's been begging me."

Daniel took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Damn it, Ms. Bennett," He said, screwing his eyes shut. "I don't want to see them. I thought you would understand."

"I know, Dany. But please. Just for a little while." She looked close to tears. Should I say something?

"Five minutes," he finally said, harshly. "I will give her five minutes, that's all. And I'm not doing this for them. It's for you, and for her."

Then she hugged him tightly. He didn't hug her back, but he didn't pull away, either. I had never seen him show anyone that kind of affection. Whoever she was to him, she must have been pretty special.

Ms. Bennett began walking very quickly ahead of us.

Daniel, walking beside me, bent down to whisper in my ear. "Sorry about this."

I shook my head. "Oh, no. It's fine, seriously."

"You're probably going to meet some people I know," Daniel muttered. "The less you speak to them, the better."

Before I could ask him what he meant, Ms. Bennett had already rung the bell and the door was opened by a house elf.

"Juni, this is Master Daniel, Mr and Mrs. Rosier's son," Ms. Bennett explained. Juni gave a shriek of excitement and bowed so low her nose touched the ground.

Daniel glared at Ms. Bennett. "I am not their son," he spat out.

"Dany-"

He looked away from her.

"Yes, yes, welcome, welcome, Master Daniel. Please, please come inside."

Daniel looked like he was having trouble breathing. His jaw was clenched like he was afraid to speak, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

Then he walked inside the huge sitting room.

It was beautiful, sure, but in a creepy, dark kind of way. The floor was wooden, the wall covered with tapestries and portraits. There was a thick, dark green carpet covering the floor with silver embroidery, and the daylight was blocked out by heavy curtains of velvet.

"Call her," he told Ms. Bennett. "Call her and just get this over with, please." He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

"Of course-"

"Juni? Who is it?"

At the sound of the voice, Daniel stiffened immediately. "I am not ready for this," he said under his breath.

I don't know what prompted me, and it was crazy- but under the circumstances, I guess I could have done worse. I pulled one of his arms down, and held his hand. "_Relax_," I said, softly. Daniel started at me, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he squeezed my hand back. "Thanks," he muttered.

The source of the voice walked down the huge stairs that winded up from the middle of the room. Then she stood at the bottom of the staircase and stared at Daniel, transfixed.

She was as creepy as the rest of the house. Long black hair pinned into an elegant bun on top of her head. She had pale, elegant features, vestiges of beauty still hanging about her face, but they were contorted and twisted because of her hard expression. She wore elegant maroon robes with a high collar and flaring sleeves that almost touched the ground.

I hated her already.

"_Dany?" _She said, shocked, and strode over to him quickly. Daniel looked like a caged rabbit, for a second, as his eyes widened in shock.

"Don't-" he started to say, but she pulled him away from the wall with surprising force, and embraced him. Daniel pushed her away immediately.

"Dany, it's so-"

He held up a hand and she stopped talking. "_Don't_. Please don't feel any obligation to speak to me. I am not here to talk to you, I'm here to see Vivienne. Is she here?"

She looked severely offended. "She's out. But she'll be back soon," she trilled.

"Brilliant. Goodbye, then." He turned around to leave, but Ms. Bennett grabbed his arm.

"Just until she's back, love. See her and then go. Please." She begged.

Daniel scowled, and turned around to look at the woman again. "I'm staying just until she's back. Then I'm going."

"That's perfectly fine, Dany-"

"_Don't. Call. Me. Dany." _He spat out the words, and the look of loathing on his face made me glad that I was not at the receiving end of it.

She looked furious for a second, before she smiled widely at him. It looked strange on her face, like it was a great physical attempt to accomplish it. As it was, the smile was odd and condescending and if I was Daniel I would have jinxed her nose off.

As it was he simply scowled and pushed past her, striding off.

She seemed to finally notice me. Her smile grew even more insincere. "How rude of him," she purred. "He didn't even introduce you."

"Clearly he was otherwise occupied," I smiled at her. "I'm Angela Woods."

She might have taken the thinly veiled sarcasm, she might have not. If she did, she didn't show it. "How lovely to meet you, Angela. Penelope Rosier," she held out her pale hand for me to shake.

I glanced at her thin, outstretched fingers, with their bright red talons.

"Yes, I'm sure it is," I smiled at her again.

She dropped her hand, her smile growing even more strained. "So, how do you know Daniel? I'm sure you're not his girlfriend." She laughed like she had something ridiculously funny.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "No, I'm not. I work with him. Is every woman you've met someone's girlfriend? There are _other _kinds, you know."

Before she could reply, Daniel suddenly reappeared by my side.

"Please don't attempt to show her how lovely you are," he drawled. "It's not going to work." Then he pulled me away from her, further into the house.

"Is this the only reason you've come here?" she shouted at him. He stopped. "To insult me?" he turned around, and the look in his eyes scared me.

"_Insult _you?" he growled. "I haven't come here to interact with you at all. I'm here to see Vivienne, and that's the end of it."

"Penelope? Who is it?" Somebody else started to descend the stairs.

"_Jesus,_" Daniel cursed under his breath.

"It's Daniel," she replied.

"What?" the voice snapped. Again, he stood there, just like the woman, staring with Daniel with a disbelieving look on his face. He was tall, handsome, maybe, but his features were cruel and brutal. His hair was grey, cropped short, military style, and his robes were deep purple.

Daniel closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to control his temper.

"Dany, my boy!" he said jovially, opening his arms wide as if to hug Daniel. He stepped back, shaking his head.

"Fuck off," he snarled at him. Holy shit.

The man stopped, the look on his face conflicted. He wanted to curse Daniel, I knew. But instead he smiled at him.

"What are you doing here, Dany?"

"My name is Daniel," he hissed. "And I'm here to see Vivienne, nothing else."

The man nodded. "That's alright, of course. And who is your lovely friend?" He glanced me over from head to foot, his smile cold and creepy. I was on my guard immediately.

"Angela Woods," I answered. Without preamble, he took my hand and kissed it. Daniel stiffened by my side.

"Leave her alone," he snapped, yanking me away. "Where's Vivienne?"

"Daniel?" All four of turned to the door.

Suddenly, a flash of black and blue whipped past me, and a girl had almost thrown Daniel to the ground with the force of her hug.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," she repeated, her voice rising with every expletive. "How did- why- did you-oh Merlin, I'm so glad you're here!" I still couldn't see her face.

"Yeah, Vi. Hi," Daniel said stoically, awkwardly patting her head.

When she pulled away, I finally saw her. Straight black hair, pale; pretty. She looked like her mother, (at least, I think she was her mother) but different, like her features had been taken and re modelled to make them softer and sweeter. She didn't look any older than fifteen or sixteen. She wore short, dark blue robes, that ended just above her knees.

"Vivienne, darling," the woman walked up to us, drawling. "Daniel's come to see you!"

"I'm sure I can see that," she muttered. "Excuse us." Then she noticed me, and blushed. "Uh-hi. I'm Vivienne. You can call me Vivi, if you like." She said.

I laughed. "Hey, Vivi. I'm Angela."

"Can we please take this outside?" Daniel asked, sounding strained.

"Yeah, of course!" Vivienne shrieked.

We were seated in the backyard, as far away from the house as possible, on the grass. Well, Vivienne and I were sitting. Daniel was standing, impatiently, ready to run any second.

"You didn't have to come," she said quietly, looking up at him reverently.

Daniel shrugged, not even looking at her. "Ms. Bennett said you wanted to see me. So here I am."

"You look tired," she said. "You work at lot at the Ministry, do you?" she turns to me. "You work with him, right? You must work a lot too, then."

I grinned. "He makes me work very hard."

Daniel rolled his eyes. Then he turned to her. "So, how's school? Good?"

"School good. I'm in sixth year now, so I don't have a lot of work."

"So you're not studying?" Daniel raised a dark eyebrow at her, the corner of his lip turning up.

She flushed. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure it isn't," he said, but he didn't sound angry.

"So what's the deal with you two?" she asked. "You guys dating, or what?"

I didn't know who looked redder- me or Daniel.

"We're not dating," I stammered.

"We work together," Daniel added.

"We're just friends."

"Friends who work together."

Vivienne smirked at us. "Sure you are."

Daniel checked his watch. "Well, Vi, your five minutes are up. I came, you've seen me, we've talked. I'm leaving now. Miss Woods, if you please."

I stood up, brushing the grass off my jeans.

"Yeah, sure. Let's go."

"So soon? Five minutes isn't much," Vivienne looked heart broken.

Daniel's eyes softened. "I'll visit again," he muttered.

"You know what?" I suddenly said. "I'll call you the Ministry one of these days. Then Daniel can take you out for lunch or something."

I half expected Daniel to blatantly refuse, but he almost smiled. "Yeah, something like that."

"Oh really?" she practically jumped. Throwing her arms around my neck she said, "Oh that would be fantastic! Please, please please!"

"Yeah, of course," I replied.

Then she pulled away and looked at Daniel pointedly.

"Um," she said. "Could I just-er- just for a minute- could you-"

"I'll leave you both alone," I said, catching her drift, and walked away to wait for Daniel.

* * *

><p><em>Daniel POV<em>

"Vi, what is it?" I asked tiredly, hoping to God she would just _let me go_.

"Thanks for coming," she said, shuffling from one foot to another.

I shrugged. "Ms. Bennett was right. It's been a while since I've seen you. You look..older."

She smiled, and it struck me once again how similar and dissimilar she looked to her parents. "I know. But listen- what Angela said- you'll really let me come to London with you?"

"Yeah, of course," I said, actually meaning it. "I'm not going to come here, so I might as well bring you there."

"Daniel, that's...that's..." she struggled for words. "That's really nice of you."

"You say it like I'm some sort of evil scum," I muttered.

"Oh no," she looked mortified. "It's just that...I know how hard it is for you."

I nodded. "Yeah. Whatever. I should go."

"Yeah, okay. But- that girl- Angela."

"What about her?" I narrowed my eyes at her.

"She's really nice." I smiled.

"Yeah," I agreed. "She _is _kind of nice."

"Maybe you _should _date her. She would be so good for you."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh come on," she scoffed. "I'm sure she's better than the other ones."

"_What _other ones?"

"Those slutty ones you used to bring home long back. Do you still shag that sort now?"

"Oh-kay," I said slowly, slowly growing appalled at the direction in which this was going. I refused to think of _Angela _and _shag _in the same sense. "This topic is not up for discussion. I'll see you, Vi,"

"Whatever," she muttered. "You should take my advice once in a while. It might actually be good." She leaned up to kiss my cheek. "Call me soon, okay?"

"Okay."

I found Angela waiting for me in front of the gate. She raised her eyebrows when saw me, silently asking if I was done. I nodded.

Her hair was open for a second, right before she re-tied it, and I might have stared at her, Vi's words running through my head again. _You should date her. She would be good for you_. Then I shook my head, distilling the thoughts at once. No way. No fucking way. Don't be a wanker, Wolfe. You don't like her like that. And even if you do, (which you don't.) she probably doesn't like you either. Okay, not 'probably', she _definitely _doesn't like you. There is no probability. Why would she like you anyway? Girls aren't attracted to assholes, and you are the perfect example of one. In fact, you should get an award.

* * *

><p><em>Angela POV<em>

Daniel was looking at me with a really strange expression on his face. I hoped it wasn't because I looked hideous. In hindsight, though, it probably was. Ugh. I _knew _I should have kept my hair the way it was.

"Hi," I said, "Do I look okay?"

"What?" he blinked a couple of times. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. You look fine. Great. You look great."

"Uh," I stammered. "Thanks. You ready? Can we go?"

"Oh, hell yes," he breathed, and pulled me along.

"You were good," he said, while we were walking. His shaggy hair was windswept and I had this crazy urge to fix it into place. _Ugh keep your hands to yourself you whore_.

"What?" I asked. Wait, what had he said? Damn it, _why_ couldn't he look as hideous as me for a day?

"With Vivienne," he explained. "You were good. She liked you."

"Did she?" I smiled. "Yeah, she's a good kid. Is she your sister?"

He bit his lip. "You could say that."

"And- the other two- your parents?"

"Let's not talk about that," he said, rubbing a hand across his face. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't remind me of it again. Sorry I dragged you into it."

That kind of hurt, but why would he tell me something so personal anyway? It would be presumptuous of me to assume that. How much did I know about him, anyway?

"That's okay," I replied. "I didn't mind."

"I'm sure you did. They are possibly the most unpleasant people I know. It's a pity you're too polite to be rude to them."

I snorted. "I wanted to, but I've been brought up better than that."

He flashed me one of his special, super hot crooked smiles and I wanted to combust on spot. "Still a pity," he muttered.

"So, what now? Back to the Ministry?"

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

We were about to apparate when someone suddenly rudely pushed past Daniel and walked on. He was about to say something in reply when both of us noticed the piece of paper he had evidently dropped.

"Hey, mate!" Daniel shouted, turning around, but that man wasn't there anymore.

"He's gone," he said sullenly. "Whatever. Come on."

"No, wait," I said, bending down to pick up the paper. "It- It has your name on it, sir." It felt strangely cold in my hands, and I felt like dropping it, ripping it in half, and I didn't want to see what was written on it.

"What is it?" Daniel asked.

I unfolded the paper and read the words on it. My blood froze.

"What?" Daniel demanded. "What the hell does it say?" he snatched the paper from my hands and read the damning words.

_"Stay the fuck away, Little Wolf._

_Or I'm going to make you howl."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: DUH DUH DUUUUUH**

**More cliffies! Mua ha ha. Anyway. I know their chemistry is agonizingly slow, but no worries! I promise you Smut. Meanwhile, some reviews, please? That would motivate me to give you faster updates and steamier chapters. Soo pleeeease take a minute to drop a line. Thank you!**

**Until later. Cheers!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello peeps! Apologies for the delay. I was very busy with schoolwork. A great big hug to all my followers and the kind people who have added me to your list of faves. Hopefully you will enjoy the chapter; there is both relationship and plot development, and if you read on, you'll realize why it was so hard to write this chapter!**

* * *

><p>Ten<p>

"What the _fuck_," Daniel hissed between his teeth, the paper gripped tightly between his fingers. His fingers trembled ever so slightly; and he had gone as white as a sheet.

"Sir," I said, calmly, firmly. "Sir, who is it from?" I stepped in front of him.

"No one of consequence," he muttered, trying to keep his voice level and stuffing it into his pocket. Then he exhaled loudly between his lips, roughed up his hair (gah, he should cut it. Or maybe not), and locked his eyes with mine, their ice blue depths searching mine.

"You're lying," I said to him, crossing my arms.

"Clearly," he deadpanned, and began to walk.

"I doubt anything would surprise me by now." I started walking beside him. "So you can tell me."

He raised a sardonic eyebrow at me. "Sarcasm or humour, Miss Woods?"

I shrugged. "Take your pick. Then tell me who that was."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't know," he replied. "If I did, I would have found him and had him tied to a chair at the Ministry by now. Unfortunately, all I have are theories and assumptions and they're of no use to me. Therefore, Miss. Woods, the conclusion we arrive at is this; _forget it_."

"Little Wolf. Little _Wolfe_. It's a threat, and you know it."

"Probably," he shrugged dismissively. "I can protect myself."

"Sounds like someone's trying to kill you."

He smirked. "I've had death threats before, both verbal and physical. As you can see, I'm very much alive. So, don't worry."

"Who said I was worried?" I grumbled.

He sighed dramatically. "Merlin, your concern is touching."

"You're being funny so you can distract me. It's not going to work.'

_Damn it_, what was he doing? Where was all this casual banter coming from? I was torn between shouting at him and then grabbing his face to kiss him.

_WOAH_. Where the hell had that come from? I wasn't—I couldn't—I had a tiring day, that's all. And my brain was acting a little weirder than usual.

"Me? Try to distract you?" he smiled crookedly, but the look didn't reach his eyes. There was fear in those blue depths, and he was trying very hard to hide it. "Hardly."

"Why the hell won't you tell me? It clearly has something to do with the case." I scowled at him.

He sighed. "You're not going to give up, are you?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Take a wild guess."

"Fine," he snapped. "Since you're so desperate to know. My parents used to call me Little Wolf. A long time ago. When I was a kid. So-"

"Your parents," I interrupted. "You mean-"

"My parents are dead," he replied simply. _Holy fuck_. What was I supposed to do? Should I say something? But I knew the gesture wouldn't be appreciated.

"Shit. I'm-"

He raised his hand and I stopped. "Please don't say you're sorry," he muttered, bitterness in those words. I didn't know how to respond. I decided not to say anything, and concentrate on what he was saying. It was linked to the case. "Anyway. I don't know who sent it, why they sent it, or how they know. I didn't want to come here for precisely this reason. Yes, it's probably related to the case, but it's too soon to assume anything. Okay?" He looked at me almost challengeingly, daring me to demand more information.

I bit my lip. "No. I guess. That's fine. So what do you plan to do about it?"

He shrugged. "We can run some tests at the Ministry, but I'd rather not waste time with this. Let's track Narvark down, and we'll see where we go from there."

"But-"

He held up a finger to silence me. "No buts, Miss Woods. Please. This is final. _We forget about this._"

I was about to reply when someone else interrupted me.

"Foolish choice, Little Wolf."

Both of us turned around. The man who said it was young; mid twenties, about Daniel's age. Tall, slender, dark hair, sallow skin; he wore a long trench coat and fingerless gloves; and the whole ensemble looked vaguely familiar. I couldn't place him, but before I could stop him, Daniel flew at him.

"You _fucking bastard,_" he snarled, and pinned him right there, his wand at his throat.

"Wait, Sir- Daniel-" I ran to them.

The man held up a finger in a feeble attempt to stop Daniel, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing under the tip of the wand. "Now, wait just a moment, Wolfe-"

"You _know _him?" I asked, whipping out my wand just in case.

"_Know _him? He nearly killed us the last time we saw him," he spat, digging the wand in deeper.

"Wait. W-"

"Give me one reason, Angus. One fucking reason not to kill you right this second."

I gaped. "_Angus_?"

Daniel gave a short, bitter laugh. "You think _I'm _foolish, you little guttersnipe? What did you think I was going to do, embrace you like a fucking long lost brother?"

"Look, I'm-" his pale fingers were inching towards the pocket of his coat, but I grabbed his wrist and twisted it around, pinning it against the tree at a very painful angle. Not enough to break it, but enough to get him in line. He yelped in pain. Auror Training 101.

"You little bi-" he started to say, but Daniel kneed him right in the groin.

"Keep that filthy mouth shut," he growled. "What are you doing here?"

Keeping his wrist pinned against the bark, I dug his wand out of his pocket, and stuffed it in mine instead.

"I'm here to help," he rasped. "Please. I'm unarmed."

Daniel scoffed. "You're going to apparate as soon as you get the chance. I'm not an idiot. What kind of help?"

"I have information."

This time I laughed. "Why should we trust you?"

"Because you're at the end of your tether," he struggled. "And you need a lead. I can-" he coughed. "Help you."

"What's in it for you?" I asked.

"Protection. I betrayed them. Now they're after me. I swear, I can help you. Please."

"Miss. Woods," he spoke calmly, still glaring at Angus. "Keep your hands on him, please. We're taking him to the Ministry."

* * *

><p>Angus was thrown into a room as soon as we got there, but before we could speak to him further, Daniel and I went to meet Roark and Ryan.<p>

This time Silver wasn't on the field as usual, but in Ryan's office. He looked like he had just come back, though; he was grimy and banged up, and there was a cut bleeding above his eyebrow.

"Blake, Silver," Daniel nodded at them. Ryan had his feet up on the table when we came in, and put them down when he saw him. Roark turned around and I couldn't read the expression in his eyes. The last time I had seen him he had told me in no few words that the Ministry was basically conspiring against all of humanity.

A charming man.

"You look like you've been through Hell," Ryan mused, standing up. He winked at me by way of greeting. "What happened?"

Daniel pulled out a chair in front of the desk and sat down, gesturing Ryan to do the same.

"We went to Griffinswood," Daniel said, running a hand through his hair. "Well, we originally went there to find out about Narvark- the goblin I told you about."

"The goblin that _Lycan _told you about, you mean," Roark said, looking Daniel right in the eye. "You went there on the words of a madman?"

Daniel's eyes narrowed.

"It was the only lead we had, _Silver_," I snapped instead. "Did you have any better leads?"

Roark looked at me then, his lips turning up in the mockery of a smile. "A half-assed assumption isn't a _lead_, Woods, no less than-"

"And we ran into Angus there," Daniel interrupted, standing up. Roark's lips closed.

"Angus?" Ryan repeated incredulously. "In Griffinswood? What was he doing there?"

Daniel shrugged. "His real motives are unclear. He says he wants to help in return for protection of some sort. He's here now. Do we have Veritaserum in stock?"

Ryan nodded. "Not much, but it should do. I'll get you a vial. What else?"

"I need you and Silver to find Fox and bring him here. Take Wilkins, if you must. And Bones. But I might need Williams, so ask him to stay."

Ryan nodded. "Very well, sir."

"Good. I'll expect you in the evening," Daniel replied, and started to leave. I followed, after a wave to Ryan.

"Yessir," then, waving at me to look at him. "Drink after we get off?"

I blinked at him. Wait, was he really asking me _here_? I turned to Daniel to ask him if I would get off at all today, but he was already looking at Ryan with narrowed eyes.

"She'll be working late today, Blake. Maybe next time. " he said coolly, giving him a slight smile that didn't reach his eyes, and left. What the hell was that? What a pretentious bastard.

I looked at Ryan with a tight smile. "I'll- I'll let you know," I replied.

"Fair enough," he smiled. "Cool. I'll see you then."

* * *

><p>Daniel examined the tiny vial of veritaserum closely, his eyes inscrutable.<p>

"Is that enough?" I asked.

"Very much so. He'll spill in a second." He turned to me. "Do you want to come?" he cocked his head to one side.

I smirked. "Am I allowed?"

He smirked back. "If I said no, would you listen to me?"

I grinned. "Fair point."

"Then let's go." He threw his jacket on the sofa and rolled up his sleeves. "Not that it should take too much time. As long as he hasn't built up resistance to it over the years." He started to walk out of his office, me following him.

"Is that possible?" I asked.

"I've seen it once," he replied. "Rare, not un heard of." His features were suddenly alight with enthusiasm; I could see it in his eyes. His hair was desperately in need of a comb, and I hadn't seen him eat anything since I saw him that afternoon, and we had bypassed lunch time entirely. I wasn't going to bring it up now; I doubt he would listen to me, but maybe, after we were done I would force feed him something.

_Force feed? He's not your responsibility. _I frowned at myself. Seriously, though. I shouldn't be worrying about him. I didn't need to. He could take care of himself. Right? Ugh. Even I knew that was silly. He didn't actually. I doubted that man had a proper night's sleep in his entire life. But even if that was true, what was it to me? He was my boss, not my boyfriend. Wait. Why was I even considering that? Gah. What was wrong with me?! _I _should be eating something. Or drinking. The fatigue was catching up with me.

"Miss Woods?" he snapped his fingers in front of my face.

"What?"I blinked at him. "Oh. Sorry. Sorry."

"Not at all," he murmured, his eyes searching my face. "Anyway," he turned away from me. "Angus is inside." He pressed the tip of his wand against the keyhole, and the door clicked open.

I had this vague idea of an interrogation room that bordered on creaky chairs, dim light bulbs that swung constantly, and basically far more intimidating than the room I found myself in. It was similar to Daniel's office, but far, far, cleaner. Angus was seated on a chair in the middle of the room, his features back to what I originally remembered; pale, slender, angular.

He smiled crookedly as we came in.

"Come to interrogate me, Wolfe? I'd much rather the lady did it," he winked at me.

"Keep your-" Daniel started

"Miss Woods will suffice, Angus, unless you want me to break those fingers with your own wand." I took it out of my pocket and dangled it in front of his face. "I can still get you to talk whilst you're screaming in pain."

"Strong words for such a pretty face," he drawled.

This time Daniel walked up to him, and keeping his wand under his chin, forced him to look up. "One more sleazy slip, Angus, and _I _will break your fingers." he said softly. He bent down to look at him in his eyes. "Now, listen. I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer them. Then I'm going to force feed you Veritaserum, and ask you the same questions. If your answers don't match, I will kill you. Is that understood?"

"You little-"

"Yes or no will suffice," Daniel interrupted smoothly.

Angus seethed. "Yes."

"Good." Daniel walked away from him, rolling the vial between his slender fingers. I watched with a weird kind of fascination; this was the first time this day Daniel was acting like himself. I could see it in the graceful, purposeful way he moved; the confidence in his hands, in his features; he was finally in control of the situation, in position from where he could move things around as he wished; and that made him feel like himself. His stance was different somehow; more angular, more straight, vaguely threatening and infinitely dangerous. It made me glad that I wasn't the one sitting in that chair. His posture made his stand clear: No mercy. Take no prisoners. And I was finding it a little bit sexy.

"Okay, Angus. Question number one. Why are you helping us?"

"I already _told _ you," Angus muttered. "I need protection."

Daniel nodded, turning around to face him once more. "Protection," he repeated, rolling the word on the tip of his tongue. "From who?"

"Lycan." He glared at Daniel.

"You nearly killed us so that Lycan would keep you on his side," I said suspiciously. "Why are you hiding from him?"

"He doesn't trust me anymore," Angus spat. "Because you and your little boyfriend are Ministry officials. He wasn't expecting that."

"So Lycan is after you, now?" Daniel strode over to him, bending so that he was eye level. "Alright, Angus. What kind of information do you have to offer?"

"I know where Narvark is. I can take you." His eyes were wide now, and he was speaking very fast, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"Take us to him? That promise sounds vaguely familiar," Daniel murmured softly, rolling his wands along his fingers.

"It's not!" Angus replied desperately. "This time I'm telling you the truth, I swear!"

"But what's that swear worth?" I asked him.

"If you get killed," he said between gritted teeth. "I won't get protection. Then Lycan will kill me, and you will have your revenge."

"Please don't think so highly of yourself," Daniel scoffed. "Revenge? Not worth my time. But yes, Angus. Be careful. If you fuck up this time, I won't wait. I'll kill you then and there."

Angus glowered. "I understand that. I'll make an unbreakable vow, if you wish."

"That's a brilliant idea, actually," I said, before Daniel could reply.

Daniel frowned at me. "Maybe he's fine with killing himself," he countered.

"No, he's not." I stepped closer, searching his features. "That might have been true. Except it's not. Because there's a different reason you're running from Lycan, isn't there, Angus?"

Angus narrowed his eyes. "You don't know anything."

I smiled. "On the contrary, I know quite a bit. You've been bad, haven't you Angus? Lycan isn't angry because you helped us. He's-"

"You know _nothing_, you filthy slut, you-"

Daniel punched him right across the jaw before he could finish his sentence. Shit. That was one hell of a right hook. Angus spat blood on the floor.

"I _told _you to keep your smart comments to yourself," Daniel growled, massaging his knuckles. "Next time you use that kind of language, Angus, I will curse your tongue off. Now, tell me. What is Woods talking about? Care to enlighten us?"

"That's _not _part of the deal! I told you what I had to, and I'm not lying." His words were loud. But there was a look of fear on his face he wasn't very successful in hiding.

Daniel caught it.

"Veritaserum it is then. Unless, Miss. Woods, you would be so kind?" he cast his gaze in my direction, almost grinning. He was enjoying this. I wondered whether I should be frightened or not. Bu oh, what the hell.

I grinned back. Then I turned to Angus. "You got handsy with Lycan's daughter, didn't you?"

"That's bull—"

"The girl at his house, in the shorts. She's the one."

"You don't—"

"You planned it. That was a distraction. You _knew _it was coming, and when you apparated—"

"She apparated before you," Daniel finished, nodding his head in approval. "So Lycan is pissed not _only _because you brought two Ministry workers to his place, but also because your ran off with his daughter." He smiled coldly. "You're more of a wanker than I thought."

Angus' lip curled. "That doesn't change anything. What—"

"We know who to seek out if you go missing," I shrug. "Unless you want to explain further?"

"No," Daniel decided. "That's enough. Come along, Woods."

"No veritaserum?" I asked.

"No," he said slowly, still looking at Angus. "He's not lying. Not for now, at least." He cocked his head to one side, still staring intently at Angus, who was glaring just as deeply at him. "I'll know when he does."

* * *

><p>Daniel leaned back against his chair, covering his face with his eyes. "God fucking <em>damn <em>it," he complained, dragging it over his face. His desk was strewn with papers and quill and ink, as usual, and I didn't know what he was looking for. I was sitting on his couch, the one that hardly had any place to sit- doing some mind numbing paperwork that he had dumped on me. I didn't feel like doing it in my cubicle, because Ryan kept on annoying me, so I had come here. Daniel hadn't objected. Or maybe he hadn't noticed me coming inside.

I looked sceptically at him. "You should go home."

He blinked a couple of times before he registered what I said. "What?"

"You. Go home. You look exhausted. Have you had anything to eat all day?"

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "What do you mean 'eat'? Of course I've eaten. I had an..." he waved his hand dismissively. "Toast. Or an apple. Something."

"When exactly did you have this 'toast or an apple or something?" I raised my eyebrows at him, putting my quill down.

He rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter. But you're right." He checked his watch. "It's eleven. You go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh come on," I muttered, standing up. "That's not fair. You should go home too." I walked over to his desk, leaning over. "Look at you. You look dead on your feet."

He leaned back, running the tip of his quill over his bottom lip. _Fuck._ He shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm fine. You look tired too. It's been a long day. Go home. I shouldn't have kept you so late."

I cocked my head to one side. "Why don't we take a break?" I asked. I didn't exactly know what was prompting me to do this. It was a very crazy thing to do, and I was sure to regret it tomorrow.  
>He frowned. "What kind of break?" For a split second, I thought his eyes had flicked down to my chest; as it happened, I <em>was <em>leaning kind of close over the desk. Imagined or not, I straightened back up.

"There's a bar across the street. Want to go for a drink?"

He raised a dark eyebrow. "I know there is. But. Alcohol? That's your idea of a break?"

I made an offended expression. "Oh come on, alcohol is everyone's idea of a break. You want to come or not?" I rapped my knuckles on the desk.

"Well," he eyed the papers uncertainly, his fingers drumming against the rim of the desk. "I suppose a break wouldn't hurt."

"Brilliant. Come on."

He looked up at me, his eyes locking with mine. Smirking. "What about Blake? Didn't he ask you to...what was it that he said? 'drinks after work'?"

"Yes. And you told him we would be working. That's not exactly a lie. We _will _ be working late. This is just a break."

"Well, technically-" he raised a finger.

"Technicalities are silly. Come on, up you get."

Daniel managed to look delicious in his rumpled shirt and leather jacket, while I was unsure of where I ranked on a scale of 'hideous' in my sweater and jeans. Plus I hadn't had a shower all day. My hair was in a mess. I decided to keep it open; maybe it would drag some attention away from my face. Technically, I wasn't too sure about whether Daniel had taken a shower either, but I doubted he smelt like it. Stupid attractive git.

* * *

><p>The bar was noisy and full of people, just like I liked it. Of course, there was a reason why I was here; Liam worked here, and we might get discounts. Maybe. If I was nice to him. Also, there was a very cute waiter who had just started working here, and maybe some good old flirting was just what I needed to stop salivating after my bosspartner/?

Wait. I wasn't _salivating _after him. How degrading.

"So. Do you come here often?" I asked Daniel.

His lips twitched. "How many times is 'often'?"

"You're an alcoholic, aren't you?" I clasped my hand to my mouth in mock shock.

He rolled his eyes. "That's a very intense word, don't you think?"

I raised my eyebrows. "How many times makes you an alcoholic?"

Before he could reply, Liam suddenly appeared at the counter and smiled at me, then turned his frigid green eyes to Daniel.

"Angie. A friend?" he asked, giving Daniel a very insincere smile. Daniel, I could see- was trying to deduct whether Liam was being sarcastic or not. Evidently, he couldn't decide, and just started at him.

"He's my boss, Liam," I explained tiredly. Gah. Why did my brother insist on fucking things up? He _knew _who Daniel was.

"So. What can I get you?" he asked.

"Get me a gilly water and a firewhisky for Mr. Wolfe here, and send that sexy waiter here to take our order instead."

This time Daniel turned to me, one eyebrow raised. "Sexy waiter?" he mouthed.

I ignored him, and stared pointedly at Liam, who rolled his eyes and muttered, 'Fine.'

When he was gone, I looked at Daniel. "Yes. I haven't flirted for ages. You know, what with my very demanding job."

He laughed. "Yes, I suppose I make it exceptionally difficult for you to cultivate romantic relationships. My apologies, Miss. Woods, if your appalling love life has something to do with me."

I gaped at him. "My love life is not _appaling_, Mr. Wolfe—"

But then I was interrupted by the sexy waiter. Tall, well built, scraggy, light brown hair and grey eyes. Perfect.

"Evening," he grinned at me. "What can I get the pretty lady?"

I smiled at him. Flirtatiously. Maybe. "Aww. Come on. You're going to take my order and run off?"

"Not at all, ma'am, I have every intention of coming back and giving you what you asked for." He winked.

"Is being a smart arse apart of your job description?" I flipped my hair. Ugh. What was I _doing_?

"No, but it is apart of _my _description, if you're interested."

I was about to say something when Daniel interrupted our flirty banter. "We'll have a gilly water and a firewhisky, please. Thanks."

Sexy Waiter turned to him, evidently noticing him for the first time. "What? I-"

"Our _order_. The _order _that you came here to _take_." He enunciated his words like Sexy Waiter was a five year old, using that condescending tone I was so familiar with and which I detested so much. Now he was using it on Sexy Waiter. What was his deal?

"Oh, yeah. Pretty lady here side tracked me." He grinned.

"Her name is Angela, if you were planning on calling her that the entire evening. That's a bit sexist, in case you were wondering." He grinned back, but the look didn't match his eyes. It was like one of his usual patronising smiles, except this one had his perfect teeth added to the mix.

Sexy Waiter couldn't seem to form a reply. "I'll get on it, sir," he finally settled on saying, and left.

I turned to Daniel with an incredulous look on my face. "That was rude!" I protested.

"Rude?" he snorted. "Please. That bloke's the worst kind of 'smart arse.'"

"Oh, and you would know quite a lot about that, wouldn't you?" I replied hotly.

"Sure I would," he replied smoothly, smirking at me. Ugh. He was too attractive for his own good. "Considering I am one, too."

"He was being perfectly nice," I complained. "Why did you have to scare him off?"

"Nice?" he stared at me. "He was being _sleazy_. Are you seriously attracted to that kind of thing?"

That was when Sexy Waiter came back with our drinks.

"_Thank you_ so much," I gushed, winking at him.

"My pleasure," he replied, then he gave Daniel his drink and kind of went back a bit when he met his glower. UGH. WHAT WAS HE DOING?

"E-enjoy," he stammered, and ran off.

"Idiot," Daniel muttered under his breath, taking a sip.

"You're unbelievable," I spluttered. "I might have had a chance with that one!"

Daniel looked at me in disgust. "Hardly. You have a chance with every man in this bar." He said it like it was the worst quality I could possibly have.

"Really? Including you?" _Shit. I hadn't meant that to come out_.

Daniel hadn't, either. His eyes widened. He opened his mouth to say something, when, once again, we were interrupted.

"Daniel!" A woman had suddenly walked up to the counter, and she smiled widely at Daniel. She was slender; built like a supermodel; with a narrow waist and wide hips; all legs and billowy, platinum blonde hair. Kind of gorgeous, dressed in the kind of clothes that seemed to be tailor made for her; they stuck to her perfect body like a second skin.

Daniel squinted at her like he couldn't place her. Then recognition seemed to dawn on his face and he raised his eyebrows. "Isabelle," he said, surprisingly. "What are you doing here?" He stood up, his stance familiar; that was how he stood when I had first met him; like he was somehow taller; all sharp edges and angles. This was Daniel On Guard.

I had to admit; I felt a completely irrational surge of jealousy I felt; it was illogical. There was nothing to be jealous about; and why should I, anyway? But it was...strange...to see Daniel with another girl, because I hadn't seen him with one since I had met him. But then Ryan's words rang through my head, a snarky reminder of how wrong I was "..._probably one of the numerous birds he shags everyday_."

She looked exactly like the kind of 'bird' he would shag; and the thought felt like ice cold water down my spine.

"Oh come on," she giggled, touching his arm. "I should ask you the same question. Merlin, how long has it been?"

Daniel ran his hand through his hair; his conscious self-preening proof of the fact that he was nervous. He shrugged. "A while, I'm guessing."

"So. How have you been? And you're here alone?" She tucked a strand of perfect hair behind her perfect ear.

"I'm fine," he said brusquely, but Perfect Ears didn't notice it. "And no, I'm here with my-ah—girlfriend."

_Wait. What?_

Then Daniel took my wrist and pulled me to his side, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me close. The touch sent electricity arcing down my spine. _Shit. What was he doing_?

"Oh," she exclaimed, running her eyes up and down my body, instantly finding me wanting; and I could see her thoughts clearly in her perfectly kohl-smudged eyes. "I didn't realise. Hi. Isabelle." She smiled insincerely at me, and held out her hand for a shake. I shook it nervously, hyper aware of Daniel's arm around my waist.

"Hi," I breathed.

Daniel's thumb traced circles on my hip. "So, you two?" she gestured at us. "How long?"

"Oh, a while," Daniel replied vaguely. Then he softly touched his lips to my temple.

_Fuck_. I think my heart rate quite possibly doubled; especially when his lips lingered there a few seconds longer than necessary. Was he actually...shit...did he...I couldn't..._fuck it his lips had been on my skin oh my god oh my god oh my god. _Suddenly, I wanted to grab him and pull him out of this bar and snog him senseless in some filthy corner of the street.

Isabelle eyed the gesture coldly, trying to retain an expression which she probably thought was warm and affectionate.

"Lovely," she cooed. "It was good to see you. And you," she smiled at me.

Daniel pulled me closer. I couldn't breathe. "The feelings are mutual, Isabelle."

She tittered nervously. "Sure. I'll see you later, yeah?" With a last insincere smile, she sashayed out of the bar.

Immediately Daniel exhaled loudly in a _good riddance _kind of way, and let go of me. I stumbled a bit.

"Well, that was unpleasant," Daniel muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I gripped the rim of the counter so hard my knuckles turned white. "Who...was..._that_?" I asked, trying to control my breathing.

"Friend." He drained the remains of the firewhisky in one gulp.

"Friend who you shagged, I'm guessing?" I asked, rather venomously. I couldn't help it. I was so _angry_. Not because he had possibly fucked that girl- but because he had just conveniently _used _me to get out of that sticky situation, and it made me feel worthless.

His head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Don't go there," he said, his voice dropping a few octaves.

"Oh, really?" I laughed. "That's rich, coming from you. What would you have done if I wasn't here? Given in to your basic urges and shagged her?" I couldn't rein in the words. I was on a rampage. I should have stopped. I was being inappropriate, disrespectful. But I kept thinking about the way he had held me so close, without preamble, without thinking about how I would have felt about that, and then let go of me just as easily; just like I was a convenient escape.

He frowned at me. "Why do you say it like that?"

"You're an _arse_," I seethed.

He gaped at me. "Angela, I'm—"

"_Don't _say you're sorry. That—what you did- was disrespectful. And rude. You didn't _think_."

"Look, it's not what you—" he moved closer, and I moved back.

"I'm sure it was. Good night, sir."

Then I left, the last thing I saw being Daniel's appalled face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So? Did you like it? The chemistry? The angst? Good? Bad? Write me a review, please, and give me your feedback!**

**Chapter eleven will be up soon. :D**

**Until later. Cheers!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello, darlings. Another chapter for you, with some nice, smutty goodness. Though maybe not what you may be expecting. ;-)**

**Enjoy.**

Eleven

~10 years back~

_He's not particularly interested in the cigarette, it makes him cough and dries his throat and he feels like shit after he smashes it beneath his sneakers. What he likes is that they're stolen cigarettes', and Daddy dear hasn't a clue. So he breathes in and out and in and out, leaning against the tombstone and listening to Muggle music. It isn't particularly good music, either, The Bent Winged Snitches are so much better, but the two psychos back at home would find it detestable and degrading and that made it worth it._

_While he's thinking about that, he hears someone coming and turns around curiously. Renee stumbles through the weeds and the treacherous rocks and finally plops down next to him, looking disapprovingly at the cigarette._

"_You're smoking again," she mutters, pulling it out of his mouth and throwing it away. He tries to be angry, but her brown hair is looking particularly nice today, and the kohl around her eyes is smudged just so and her lip gloss is slightly smudged too, and Daniel can think of a dozen different ways to wipe that shit all off himself._

_So he kisses her then, and he kisses her hard, and he loves it, because she smells like summer, and she makes a little sigh when his lips crush hers, and her fingers clutch the lapel of his jacket and she brings him closer and she opens her mouth and he slips his tongue inside and Merlin, it feels good. Its feels even better when he fingers the smooth skin just above her waistline, and right underneath her shirt, the skin warm and flushed under his cold fingers. She shivers at the touch._

_Then she pulls away and pushes him back, even though he moves towards her again to capture those outrageously pouty lips, but she smacks him slightly on his pale cheek, so he moves back._

"_Stop it," she blushes, and he wants to run his lips down the side of her face, and feel her heated skin under his mouth. _

_He grins back. "Make me." _

_She shoves him playfully. He kisses her all over again, and this time his hands roam freely over that perfect body._

_When he goes back home, Penelope sniffs out the smoke faster than a bloodhound and before he can climb up the steps and sleep, she calls him back, "Daniel," she snaps, her voice cracking like a whip, his name an accusation on her lips._

_He turns around to glower at her. He's almost taller than her now, so he can look directly into those hateful eyes, meeting the loathing in there with his own._

"_You've been smoking again."_

"_Fantastic observation, that," he quips._

_Then she slaps him, and the insult burns more than his cheek. But he doesn't say anything because he's not willing to give her that satisfaction. So he looks up at her again, cracks his neck, and doesn't reach up to finger his skin._

"_Is this how you repay our kindness?" she snaps. "Is this how you show your parents the respect that they deserve?"_

_Daniel's lip curls in disgust; trying to reign in the terrible things that he wants to say, but all he says is, "You're not my parents." Then he walks away before she can say another word, and he's glad that she doesn't follow him, because he doesn't trust himself to not curse her; and the last thing he wants is to be expelled from Hogwarts._

_She screams something back at him, but he is too angry to care, he just climbs the stairs and goes inside the room and slams the door shut so hard it's a miracle it doesn't break off its hinges. The first thing he does is find the hidden stash of firewhisky underneath the loose floorboard. He opens it with relish and chugs half of it down, and it burns like a bitch down his throat and settles in the pit of his stomach, feeling so terrible it feels amazing._

_The second thing he does is open his wardrobe, and stare at the smiling picture of his parents stuck with a Permanent Sticking Charm on the inside. Penelope and her wanker of a husband don't know about this, it's a simple enough disillusionment charm when you think about it. So he stares at his mother first, with her dark brown hair and her bright grey eyes, and then he stares at his father, with that wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. They smile at him and wave at him, and it's all Daniel can do to not crumple up on the floor and cry. He wants to rip that picture off and tear it to shreds and burn it and never have to look at their faces again; it would save him the pain. But this is the only picture he has of them, and what if he forgets their faces if he doesn't look at it every day? It terrifies him like a little child, and he keeps it on._

_Then he turns to the large case propped up against the closet, and because he is not sleepy, he unclasps it with reverence and extracts the instrument, running his fingers down the cool wood, and sitting down on his chair, placing the cello between his legs and running the bow across the strings._

_He plays and plays and plays, until his finger tips are bloody and his wrists hurt, and then he puts it back and drains the rest of the firewhisky._

_Then he tumbles into bed, pulling the covers over his head so he's cocooned in the stifling warmth, and because no one can see him there, he lets the tears flow freely._

* * *

><p>Hopkins jumps on my face once more. I hex him off, and he settles into position, looking at me balefully with his yellow eyes. I rub my own, staring sleepily around myself. It was the fucking weekend, I deserved a sleep in. But when my head touched the pillow again, I heard a <em>tap tap tap <em> and I had to get up.

A brown owl was continuously tapping his beak against the closed window, and I groaned, getting up and stumbling to the window in my t shirt and underwear, sliding it up so he could fly inside. Higgly shrieked at the sight of him and ran away.

The owl flapped around my head a few times before finally dropping a letter and a roll of parchment on the floor. Then he nipped my ear affectionately and settled on the nightstand, evidently waiting for me to reply.

I bent down and picked the letter off first. It was from Ryan

"_Good morning, Beautiful. Did I wake you up? Sorry about that._

_These are the files that Wolfe was asking about. I found them. But he wanted you to read them first. It would be easier to owl it to him, but far safer to give it to him in person. His address is on the other side. Be a darling and do this, would you?_

_Also, you never gave me that drink. Working late, I'm assuming._

_Today's a Sunday. Catch my drift?_

_Owl me?_

_-Ryan"_

I sighed deeply as I read the letter. I picked up the roll of parchment, which was thick and full of complicating scrawls and pictures paper-clipped to the top. This would take time to read. The owl was still staring expectantly at me. I re read the letter several times. I did not want to see Daniel's face, but Ryan was right, it would be safer to hand them to him in person. Well, let's see about that.

Now, the drinks. I didn't mind going for a drink with Ryan, but I wasn't sure what he was implying. Or what the connotation was. Nevertheless, I decided I should write something.

_Yes, you did wake me up. No worries._

_I'll get him the files._

_Drinks sound great. Come to my place at eight._

_See you then._

_-Angela. _

Then I handed the owl the letter and he took it in his beak, and flew out the open window.

I took the parchment.

Sigh. This was going to be a long day.

I brushed my teeth and my hair and wore a pair of pants and sat down to read the parchment. They were listings of Narvark's sightings, and one file was dedicated entirely to Quentin Ryder.

When I was done, I sat on my bed, taking far too long to decide whether or not I should go, or just take the easier route and ask someone at work to do it for me. I knew I was being irrational, and if someone had asked why I was so loathe to go, I wouldn't have been able to answer, because truth be told, I did not know myself.

But if I closed my eyes, all I could feel were Daniel's hands on my waist and his lips on my temple, and then the sudden absence of his touch, because it had meant nothing at all. And when I was successful in forgetting about that, I would remember that girl's face and the way she had touched Daniel and I would never be able to stop that irrational jealousy and it drove me crazy. And the only thing more painful than that was the mere fact that it was painful at all, because I was not supposed to _feel like this_. Then I would repeat to myself over and over and over again; _I'm not attracted to him I'm not attracted to him I AM NOT attracted to him._

So, if I wasn't, why was I taking so much time to come to a perfectly easy decision? There was no easy answer. I didn't trust myself to go, because I knew I had a fast mouth and I didn't want to say something I would regret. I had already said far too much last night, and the worst thing was I didn't know how Daniel felt about it; because I didn't want him beginning to think that I...that I _fancied _him or something.

I decided to go.

I was being purposely sloppy about my clothing, maybe to prove to myself that I didn't give a damn about Daniel Wolfe's opinion and I didn't _dress for him_. So I threw on the rattiest jeans I could find and the oldest T-shirt I had in stock, but then I couldn't help but make up for it by meticulously brushing my hair with a vengeance; until it hung like a shiny red curtain around my face. _Then_, of course, I stared at my skinny self for a long time, actually considering messing it up just for the sake of it.

I turned over the parchment and saw the address on the other side. _Posh_.

* * *

><p>He lived in a posh neighbourhood, one of those quiet, affluent ones with tree-lined avenues and rows and rows of fancy looking similar houses.<p>

His house was made of red brick, with nice wrap around parch, a few lanterns hanging from the top there. I took several deep breaths before finally climbing up the few stairs to the door, and then I took the knocker in my hand and knocked thrice.

I didn't expect him to open his own doors, and I was not disappointed. A tiny little elf stared up at me with her big green eyes and bowed.

"Hi," I said. "I'm here to meet Mr. Wolfe. Is he home?"

"Yes ma'am, he is home ma'am. You follow Blinkee and she will take you to his study because he will be there soon. You follow Blinkee ma'am."

His house was nicer than I expected it to be; on one side of the living room there were two bookshelves stuck to the walls, and two sofas facing each other there, above the thick red carpet. It was cosy and warm and it gave me a funny feeling in my stomach. Blinkee led me up a staircase and into a room, which was basically Daniel's office Part- 2. It was as untidy as the one back in the Ministry, perhaps a bit more, since he was clearly in a position to take liberties with this one. There were books crammed against every wall, and instead of a sofa, there were two armchairs, with a table between them, covered in files and rolls of parchment. The desk itself was a mountain of paper and ink bottles and quills, and there was a pile of dirty clothing in one corner. The rest of the house was clean enough; so obviously the house elves weren't allowed in this room. Daniel didn't seem to me to be the kind of guy who cleans up after himself.

I walked up to his desk with the vague intention of dropping the parchment there and running away, when I noticed a framed picture on the surface. I picked it up, examining it closely. A man and a woman waved at me from there; the woman was pale, dark haired, slender, the man with fair hair and blue eyes; both good looking, both looking insanely happy. I smiled in spite of myself as I looked at their faces; and then I started noticing the subtle curves and lines of their faces and they looked familiar and alien; and all at once it hit me, like crashing wave; _Daniel's parents_.

"What are you doing here?'

I turned around swiftly, almost dropping the picture. Daniel leaned against the doorway, _fucking shirtless_.

He had evidently just taken a shower; his dark hair was wet and messy, sticking up every which way; and a pair of loose, blue pyjamas hung off his slender hips; and I don't know how long I just stood there, staring. He was fit. Very fit.

"I, um..." My brain had temporarily shut down, and I was rendered incapable of intelligent speech and thought.

His eyes moved to the picture in my hands and he raised an eyebrow, and it might have been a good idea to put it down but then I realised that even my body wasn't responding. Then he sauntered over to his desk, and my eyes ran down that chest invariably, and the _smell _of him hit me, then; heady and intoxicating, shampoo and soap and godfuckingdamnit _Daniel Wolfe._

He was standing close, too close, then, and he reached up to gently tug the picture out of my hands and put it back on the desk. Then he looked at me, his greyish-blue eyes amused and slightly concerned.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, his voice low, and if I didn't know better, slightly seductive. I would have given into that voice right then and there, but then the unwelcoming scene from last night passed over my eyes, and I stiffened and leaned away from him.

"Ryan asked me to give you this," I said, maybe a little too quickly.

"Did he, now?" he asked softly, taking the roll from my hands, his fingers brushing mine, and his eyes never leaving my face. It might have been my overactive imagination, but I was imagining all sorts of dirty things in those eyes.

Despite myself, I flushed. If he would just stop standing _so close_ and maybe put on a _fucking shirt _this would all be a little easier.

He un scrolled it, his eyes scanning it, and I took a second to run my eyes down his face and that blessed torso again. He had shaved, clearly; and it made him look younger, slightly less intimidating. But his hair still hung long and shaggy down the sides of his face, and he looked like an effing teenager.

"I see," he murmured, and put it back on the desk. Then he leaned against it, his hip cocked against the rim, and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at me, directly in my eyes.

"Listen," he said, biting his lip, looking slightly nervous. "About last night..."

_Oh_. I raised an eyebrow, almost smirking. If this was what I thought I was, then it was going to be good.

He noticed my snarky expectant expression and he narrowed his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know, you _should _let me finish before you get all judgey."

I smirked. I waved a hand at him dismissively. "Oh no, don't let me stop you. Do go on."

He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "So, as I was saying. I um. Well," he licked his lips again. "Well, you see..." he opened and closed his mouth several times. "Okay. I'm sorry. For yesterday. You're right. It was rude. And insensitive. And selfish. I'm an arse, and even though you've probably noticed that already, I'll say it again for your benefit. I just didn't want to see her, and she wouldn't leave me alone, so I just..well..okay, justifying it doesn't make it any better, I know...but...well," He groped for words. "Look, I'm terrible at explaining myself. Can I just apologise again?"

God damn it. I wanted to kiss him. I really did. It was alarmingly endearing, watching him grope around like that. Endearing, and it was a little cute. Daniel didn't _do _cute, so seeing this was a rare opportunity. He was also one of those people who never apologised about anything they did, so yes, I was a privileged person.

I laughed. "Yeah. Okay. It's fine." I shrugged. "Maybe I overreacted a bit."

"No, no, of course not. Look, can we just forget it?"

"Will you tell me who it was?"

A dark look passed his face. "No," he said resolutely.

"You shagged her, didn't you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Why does my sex life fascinate you so much?" he demanded.

I blushed, thinking of _Daniel _and _sex _in the same sentence. "It doesn't," I stammered, feeling the heat on my cheeks. "It was just a question."

He smirked at me, his eyes taking in my red face. And suddenly, he leaned in closer, his lips centimetres from my ear, and he whispered, "Miss. Woods. You're blushing."

I gaped at him. _Arrogant bastard_. "I am not!"

He grinned. "Okay."

Oh my god, was he actually _flirting _with me?

"I'm leaving," I seethed. But I wasn't really angry. It was too difficult to be angry with Daniel when he was grinning and he looked happy, when all he usually did was scowl and scream at me, and _bloody HELL_ had I mentioned the fact that he was shirtless?

So I turned around, only _pretending _to be furious with him and his lame jokes, when I heard a high pitched, unmistakably female voice ring out outside.

"Dan? Daaan? You in there, baby?"

I froze. _You have GOT to be kidding me_.

She came skipping into his study, dressed only in a white shirt that was obviously Daniel's, her legs bare, her red hair open and tangled, her make up smudged. It was stamped all over her, her face and her body were literally screaming it out: _I've just shagged Daniel I've just shagged Daniel I've just shaaaaaged DANIELLLLL_.

The only thing that struck me was the red hair for the first few seconds.

She took in the scene in front of her; Daniel, now no longer leaning against the desk, but standing ramrod straight and staring at her, his eyes wide and his jaw strained, and then there was me, who probably looked like an angry bull pawing the ground.

I wanted to run. I wanted to get away from here. I wanted to hit myself for suddenly feeling so insanely jealous that it was all I could do to not whip out my wand and hex the both of them and _why the hell was she so god damn pretty_?

She was still staring, her pouty lips in a small _O _of amazement. Then she giggled nervously, tugging down the nearly transparent shirt to cover her modesty. "Hi," she said breathlessly.

I turned to Daniel, giving him the most perfect smile I could muster. "Sorry," I said, brightly. "I didn't realise you had company."

Daniel seemed to suddenly jerk out of his shock. "Wait," he said. "it's not—"

"It's okay. Please carry on." I smiled again. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Then I walked out of his room. This time Daniel followed me.

"Angela, don't—"

"Why are you explaining yourself to me?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly, as I practically jumped down the stairs in my haste to get away from him.

"Because you're reacting like _this_." He waved his hands helplessly at me.

"Reacting like _what_?" I snapped, stalking towards the door.

"I don't know. Storming off."

Finally at the door, I turned around and glared at him. "I knew you were an arrogant arse, but even this is a new level for you. I don't give a fucking damn about who you shag, and who you don't. So you don't need to justify yourself."

"Look, I never said—"

"Goodbye."

I left.

* * *

><p>That evening, I dressed with a vengeance.<p>

It had been _months _since I had had an opportunity to dress up, months since I had had the _desire _to look good for someone. But that evening, I ignored the piles of ratty jeans and t-shirts and took out the prettiest dress I could find, dark blue and fitted and short, and I wore my favourite ankle boots and I straightened my hair with this blessed charm Steve had taught me and I even put on some make up.

There was always a possibility that I looked hideous, but I decided to give myself the benefit of doubt.

I was pacing nervously in the living room when the doorbell rang. Higgly threw herself against the door for no apparent reason and I had to pick her up and throw her somewhere else again. Then I opened the door, and Ryan whistled as soon as he saw me.

"Darling," he drawled. "You look ravishing." He leaned in and kissed my cheek. He looked good; with his white t- shirt and tight black jeans and his bad boy stubble. Then he held out his hand. "May I?"

* * *

><p>Trust Ryan to take me to a muggle club.<p>

Now, I didn't have anything against muggles, but I liked firewhisky better than the watered down shit they called alcohol, but Ryan wasn't going to hear any of it.

"Trust me on this, love," he said, as he took me inside the club, his arm loosely draped over my shoulder, with its loud music and pulsing lights he sat me down in front of the bar.

"I'm giving you the benefit of doubt, Ryan Blake," I said solemnly, looking sceptically at him.

He smirked. "This will get you drunk in _minutes_, darling."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "So you're trying to get me drunk?"

"No worries. I'm trying to get both of us drunk. Relax. It's the weekend." Then he turned to the bartender. A woman. Pretty. Bloody hell, were they everywhere I went? "Two tequilas, please," he told her. She fluttered he eyelids flirtatiously and said, "Coming right up, love."

"What's a tequila?" I asked, curiously, ignoring her blatant interest in Ryan.

"Drink it, you'll see." The girl brought back two tiny glasses filled with liquid and a bowl of lime.

"Here," he handed me the glass, then took one himself. "Just drink it. Okay? On three. One, two, three."

I knocked it back as soon he did. "_Merlin's fucking balls!" _I gasped, reacting to the sharp, bitter taste.

"Here," he popped a lemon into my open mouth.

I sucked it. "Mmm. Okay. That was...wow."

"Another one?" He grinned at me.

"Hell yes."

"Another one, please!" Then he turned to me, his expression a little sober. "You're probably going to get drunk, though. Seriously. It hits you hard, this. So, you sure?"

I considered for a moment. I would get drunk. I might get handsy. Maybe I should have said no. But then today had sucked and if I could get drunk and have fun, so be it.

Eight rounds later, Ryan slipped off his stool, and pulled me off too. "Let's dance," he said, pulling me on to the dance floor.

"I don't dance!" I argued, but Ryan only grinned. He put wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me closer, and he took my other hand.

"Follow my lead," he murmured in my ear.

I swallowed. My head felt slightly fuzzy from the alcohol, and Ryan's lips near my ear felt bloody fantastic.

"Okay," I murmured, allowing him to nuzzle my hair while his body moved against mine; slow, teasing, and god damn sexy. He was right, he did know how to dance.

"Have I told you how bloody gorgeous you look tonight?" He kissed my temple, and for a second- just for a second, I could almost imagine that those were Daniel's lips. The thought appalled me, and I pressed myself closer to Ryan, like the physical contact would dispel the lingering memory of Daniel's touch.

"You may have mentioned it once," I laughed nervously, hyper aware of Ryan's hips grinding against mine, and dimly aware of the pulsating beat.

"Mmm. You smell good." And Ryan's hand was at the small of my back, guiding me as we danced, and it slipped a little lower; warning bells rang in my head, as buzzed as I was; and if I felt at all like myself, I would have stopped him, then. But as it was, I didn't care. In fact, I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to feel Ryan's hands _everywhere_, just because it would help me forget.

So that was when I pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and whispered in his ear, "Kiss me."

He smiled crookedly; and there it was again, that fleeting moment where I thought I was looking at Daniel instead. But then Ryan's lips swooped down on mine, and I pushed every other thought in my head away, trying as hard as I could to concentrate on the feel of those lips, and the slow, lazy way they were moving, and how Ryan's had slipped even lower, pressing me against him until the only thing separating us were those few layers of clothing.

I kissed him back, harder, like the only thing that mattered was that I must make this kiss as unforgettable as possible, so they could be burned in my memory instead of something else. So when Ryan's tongue teasingly skimmed my bottom lip, I let it inside, and I didn't stop him, not even once, I didn't make one sound of protest; I whispered again in his ear, "Touch me, for fuck's sake," and I let Ryan's hand cup my backside and squeeze, I let his lips move down the side of my mouth and down my neck, I closed my eyes and tried to relish the hot trail his lips had left in their wake, and I moaned when he nipped my ear lobe, when he grinded harder, and I could feel his hardening crotch against the layers of denim.

But it wasn't enough, god damn it; it _wasn't enough_.

Because while his lips were sucking my neck, all I could think about was Daniel and that gorgeous blonde, Daniel and that gorgeous red head, Daniel and all the fucking gorgeous women he had ever shagged in his life, and his name, over, and over, and over again in my head; _Daniel Wolfe, Daniel Wolfe, Daniel Wolfe_.

And I hated myself so much, then. Pitied myself, felt frustrated because I could do so much better than this, because I deserved so much more. And even though _this_, what I was doing with Ryan, felt so, so, bloody wrong somehow, I pushed those misgivings to the back of my head and I thought _fuck it_.

So then I pulled away and hissed into his ear. "Where's the bathroom?"

He pulled away, slightly dazed, lips swollen.

"What?"

"The bloody bathroom, you wanker. Where is it?"

"Why do you—"

"Not me. You. And me. Where is it?"

He suddenly seemed to realise what I had just implied, and he pulled me along the crowd faster than a freight train. Then, inside the bathroom, I dragged him inside a cubicle and pushed him against the door and smashed my lips to his with more force than I had intended.

"Baby," he moaned against my lips, as I slipped my hand under his t-shirt and ran my hands down his back, and I could feel him harden in response to my touch. And I didn't know what was turning me on; Ryan, or the thought of doing the same thing to Daniel.

Then he turned me around and shoved me roughly against the wall instead, his body pressed against mine, and I could feel the heat of his skin through the layers of clothing. He snogged me senseless, then. Long and dirty and hard and _rough_, and I loved it. His hand moved up from my waist and skimmed along my stomach, making me shiver; and then he cupped my breast and the back of my head pressed against the door, and it was everything I could do to not moan as loudly as I wanted.

Then his hands moved to the hem of my dress, and he stopped then, looking at me through his hooded eyes, lips parted, panting, silently asking for permission.

"Yes, god damn it," I groaned.

So he lifted it up and hitched it around my waist, and his fingers moved aside my knickers without preamble and began to move.

"_Fuck_," I moaned.

His fingers moved faster, eliciting dirtier noises from me with every stroke.

"_Jesus, fuck, Ryan, fuck, MERLIN_," I moaned incoherently.

And I groaned and moaned and I don't remember what I had said, but suddenly, Ryan stopped, and his blessed fingers were nowhere near, and I opened my eyes to stare back at him.

"W-what happened?" I breathed.

"My name is Ryan," he said, slowly.

"W-what?" I pulled down the dress, standing straighter. "I know that."

"Recent circumstances don't validate that statement," he slurred, pushing away from me.

"Wait, wait-" I blinked at him, but he had already unlocked the door. "Ryan, wait!"

He walked out, and I grabbed his wrist. "What is it?"

He turned back, glaring, his blue eyes icy. "You're a nice girl, Angela. But if it's Wolfe you want to fuck, you should have made that clear."

I gaped at him. "What are you—"

He held up a hand. "It's okay. I get it." He shrugged.

"Why are you saying this?" I literally screeched.

"Because apparently you forget whose hand was between your legs, darling," he drawled.

My eyes widened. "Ryan, I didn't—"

He shrugged again. "Whatever," he muttered, and walked out.

I didn't stop him this time.

* * *

><p><em>Daniel POV<em>

I was the biggest idiot in the history of the universe.

And this had been the worst day of my life.

I just keep messing up, over and over again, and I don't know why I'm beginning to _care _so much about that petite redhead's opinion.

I'm making her angry, and I'm making her sad, and I try, I really _try _to not be arrogant and assume it's because of me, but everything point to that, and I may not be sodding Sherlock Holmes, but even I can tell when a lady is jealous.

Sometimes I think that it's a _good _thing because the last thing I need is for Angela to fancy me, because I know where that road will lead. And if that tiny little frown between her brows is bothering me so much, I cannot fathom how her tears would make me feel.

And there I go again, being arrogant, because I am a fucking arsehole.

I can't even remember that girl's _name_, god damn it, and I doubt even she's strived to keep it in her memory after I unceremoniously told her to leave. Yes, that was downright despicable. Sue me.

The only reason I took her home was because she had red hair, and now I'm beginning to doubt myself, and this is alarming, because I _never _doubt myself.

There have been women, there have been _countless _women, and I have always made it crystal clear from the very beginning; I am not in it for the long haul, never have been, never will be. Some women like it, some of them don't, but this is just how I am, and I can't change because it worked for me for so long, and life was okay.

And then, she comes out of nowhere and everything just turns upside down.

So I toss and turn and I can't sleep, because her face keeps swimming in front of me, and as hard as I try, I cannot seem to get rid of that image. Maybe, if she stopped being so pretty, I would stop thinking about her. Merlin, she was fucking _beautiful_; with that tawny hair and those jade green eyes, and that delicate porcelain skin; you would look at her and think that she's fragile; because she looks like a doll; like if she would fall, she would break into a million pieces; but I have seen her fight- and there is nothing I respect more than a woman who can hex and curse and jinx like that. I have seen her angry, and she's as fiery as the colour of her hair.

I groan, dragging both hands through my hair; I have never been so sentimental in my _life_. What is it about her that drives me so god damn crazy? That it's all I can do to not push her up against the wall of my office and snog her senseless until all she can say is my name?

_Jesus_.

Horny at this time of night, god damn it.

And even more than that, there's this _worry_ that eats at me all the time when we're working, and this is dangerous; because she is a fucking Auror, for Christ's sake, and she signed up for the danger, she can handle herself; I _know _that. She doesn't need my protection, she's not that kind of a girl. I don't need to stand in front of her like a god damn knight and try to save her from everything. But I can't _help _it, because if something happened, it would be my fault, and that I would not be able to bear.

I sigh.

Work was going to be awkward tomorrow.

**A/N: HUZZAH! Finally, some action! Plot will progress as before in the next chapter, with some more important relationship development.**

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**Until later, readers and friends! Have a good week.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: After the monstrosity that was my last chapter, this may seem very short, and I'm really sorry about that. But there are several plot developments just waiting to happen, and I couldn't mess it all up by cramming them into one chapter. But since everything is happening in a very fast sequence, I decided to divide them into two parts to maintain some semblance of fluidity.**

**Part One may seem a little boring, but it's the lull before the storm. (Well I hope so! :D ) Part Two will be up very shortly, because I don't want to keep too much of a gap between the two, considering it was originally supposed to be one chapter.**

**Lovely things are around the corner, readers! Hold on tight.**

**Enjoy.**

**PS: Thank you for your reviews, of course. A special hug to Stormyshade, who has been a very loyal reviewer.**

**Now, without further ado:**

* * *

><p><strong>Part One: Blood<strong>

That night I dreamt of Daniel.

It started out fine; exceptionally fine, actually; with him kissing me- his lips soft and wet against my own, and he kissed me like I have always wanted to be kissed; and I did what I had always wanted to do, but too scared to admit it to myself; tangle my fingers in that dark hair and tug.

Then someone who is me, but who is not me; with the same red hair, and porcelain skin, and even the freckles on her nose; drags him away- and then suddenly he turns into a wolf; huge with shaggy grey fur, and the woman ties a leash around his neck and pulls and pulls, snarling and growling, trying to wrench away from her. He stays rooted on the spot, his blue eyes, wolfish yet human; boring into mine; begging me to take him back, but for some reason, I cannot move; until she pulls so hard she strangles him and he falls to the ground, motionless.

Then I wake up, my face burning and sweaty and my hands and feet ice cold.

_What the fuck_?

I dragged my hands through my face, rubbing the sleep and remnants of the sick dream from my eyes. Hopkins was eyeing me wearily, wondering if he should wake me up considering I was already awake.

I checked the clock. Six thirty. I usually woke up half an hour later, but it would be impossible to go back to sleep now. I half hoped I would dream the same dream again, if only I could feel Daniel's lips against mine.

Then I felt disgusted with myself, because then the inevitable headache made itself known, and last night's events came crashing down on me.

_How was I going to show my face to Ryan today_?

It was terrifying. But I was stronger than that, and work was work, so I got dressed (skinny black jeans and white t-shirt. I had no creativity at all.) and tied my hair and tried not to be too horrified at the nightmare with bloodshot eyes staring back at me. Last night I had cried myself to sleep, and the cold water had not helped improve my swollen eyes and pale cheeks.

I even considered make up, but who wears make up to work? We might have to go out today.

_Out. With Daniel_. Half of me craved it; being close to him. Half of me hated him and wanted to stay as far from as possible. Obviously, that was not possible, because I spent most of my time in his office.

My luck was terrible.

I mean, the department was usually so chaotic and full of people that it was an hour later that I would be able to say 'good morning' to my friends.

But I bumped right into Ryan when I was making my way to the cubicle.

He looked as bad as I felt; cute, of course, because he _was _good-looking; but his eyes had dark circles and his curly hair was looked like he had just rolled out of bed. He _usually _looked like he had rolled out of bed, but...I don't know. He didn't look happy.

"Ryan," I spluttered, looking up at him. "Hey."

_Hey? THAT was all I could think of? HEY?_

His lips twitched. "Good morning, Angela. Sleep good?"

His tone was dripping with sarcasm, and I couldn't blame him.

"Not exactly," I said in a small voice.

"Shocking," he drawled again, and pushed past me.

It was cold, but how could I even justify it? Ryan had never been _anything _but nice to me. God, I was _such _a bitch.

But work was work.

So I put down my coat and my purse and the files on my desk and made my way to Daniel's office like I did every morning. On the way, I met Steve, who looked like he was hurriedly going somewhere, but as soon as he saw me, he stopped, taking in my appearance with concern. I did _not _want to have this conversation with him, but he grabbed my shoulders and asked me, "What happened?"

I almost gave in. I needed to tell _someone, _and here Steve was, his sincere brown eyes boring into mine, asking me a question that I needed to answer. But no. Not today, not right now. This was work, this was my job, and even if everything else was a mess, _this _I had no intention of fucking up.

"Later," I promised, and he nodded, accepting that.

* * *

><p>Before I went, I asked Katie for some coffee and tea. It was kind of pathetic that I knew Daniel didn't like tea, and even more pathetic that I was getting some for him too. Oh well.<p>

She looked at me, his eyes frigid, and then banged two mugs on the counter, almost spilling the contents. "There you go," she seethed.

I didn't have the time for her petty jealousy. I mumbled my thanks, took the mugs, and left. When I knocked, no one answered. So I knocked again. Then a sleepy voice said from inside, "Come in."

Was he seriously sleeping? Disgusting.

So I came in, pushing the door open with my shoulder, and I saw him curled up on the sofa, a pillow pressed over his head.

"Why are you asleep?" I asked, loudly. Just to annoy him.

"I couldn't sleep at home," he mumbled, his voice muffled.

I rolled my eyes. "This is ridiculous," I stated, and placing the mugs on the desk, walked over to him, wrenching the pillow away from his grasp. "Get up. Don't we have work to do?"

"We do," he rubbed his eyes. He wasn't dressed in shirt and trousers; he was wearing a grey, long sleeved t-shirt and black jeans. He looked strangely juvenile; young. Basically, he looked his age. And he looked good. I had to look away before I was caught staring.

"Then get up," I muttered, staring out the window.

"I wasn't necessarily _asleep_," he argued, sitting up, covering his face with his hands."I worked a bit. I came here at, what? Four. Three. I don't know. Then I was...resting."

It sounded so stupid, I wanted to laugh. Like a little child justifying why he had stolen a cookie. I was finding it endearing. This had to stop.

So I looked at him to say something snarky and rude, and his blue eyes met mine; under that fringe of dark hair; and yesterday crashed all around me, thick and heavy and suffocating.

He felt it too, his eyes wide and his perfect lips slightly parted, and he looked expectant; like he half-expected me to start screaming at him again.

When I didn't say anything, he ran his tongue down his bottom lip and started, slowly, "Listen, I-"

"No." I held up a hand, finally finding my voice. "We don't need to talk about this. It's your life, and it's really none of my business. You don't need to justify yourself, because it's your choice, not mine. I'm sorry for making such a big deal out of it."

He stared at me, and I realised that I was consoling myself more than him, pretending that saying it out loud would make it final, would make me believe it myself.

It didn't.

"Okay," he finally said, and he got up. A bit of stubble had covered his chin and cheeks from over the last twenty four hours, and his hair was messed up from sleeping. He ran his hands through his hair to fix it. "Okay," he said again, like he was folding up the conversation and putting it at the back of his head. Then he noticed the coffee and the tea, and he grinned like a little child. _Why the fuck does he have to be so adorable_?

"Is that coffee?" he asked, looking at them longingly.

I smiled, in spite of myself. "One of them is," I took the black porcelain mug and handed it to him.

"Is it-"

"No milk, two sugars. Yeah. I know."

He frowned at the contents of the mug. "How do you-"

I was about to reply with something probably pathetic, but someone walked in. It was Ryan.

He was carrying something in his hands, a file or something or whatever. I didn't notice it. He walked up to Daniel and handed it to him. Literally shoved it into his arms. "You asked for this," he snapped.

Daniel frowned at him, gripping the file before it fell to the ground. "Yeah," he agreed. "Thanks. Is Angus still locked up?"

Ryan shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not in charge of him, you are."

Daniel raised his eyebrows, putting the things on his desk. "Yes, I'm aware. But you're not detached from this case, are you?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Ryan-" I started, but he glared at me, and I fell silent.

"Something you want to say, _Miss. Woods?" _he asked, sarcastically. I gaped at him for a second or two, about to say something rude, but then I decided against it, shaking my head.

"No," I said quietly.

It wasn't like me to do that, under any circumstance I probably would have cursed his nose off, but I felt so bad about yesterday that I was letting him act shitty. I hoped Daniel wouldn't. But I was wrong.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Ryan rolled his eyes, and although he did that often, this was more sarcastic, more mean. He was only a few centimetres shorter than Daniel, so neither of them could intimidate each other with their height, but Daniel looked extremely pissed off.

"Look, if—" he started, but Ryan just said. "Call me if you need me," and went out.

Daniel frowned after him, then frowned at me.

"Did something happen between you two?" he asked. His tone was slow, careful, like he was measuring each word before he said it.

I flushed, despite myself. "No," I said, far too quickly.

He looked at me then, his face impassive, but his eyes intense. He knew I was lying. "Fine," he decided to say. "Could you go and ask Angus about what he knows about Narvark? And send Ryan here. I want to speak to him."

"If it's about—"

"Don't get so far ahead of yourself, Miss. Woods. It's about the case. If you please; Narvark. Ryan."

I wanted to hit him again, but I just scowled at him and walked out, snapping at Ryan that Mr. Wolfe wanted to see him.

"Is it about you, now?" he asked, a fake smile on his face.

"What is with you today?" I almost shrieked.

"Quiet down, baby," he chuckled darkly. "Do you want everyone to know?"

I gaped at him. "How fucking dare—"

"Oh, how dare I be mad about yesterday? Yes, of course, such appalling behaviour. My apologies, Miss. Woods."

"You're being a dick," I said, my voice cracking. "Stop it."

He noticed it, and he blinked a few times, his smile wavering. "Okay."

"Just go, okay? Wolfe wants you." Then I stalked off, in search of Angus.

* * *

><p><em>Daniel POV<em>

Truth be told, I hadn't planned on coming to work at 3 am like the loser I was.

But, as I had explained earlier, I couldn't sleep. I might have dropped off at midnight and slept an hour, but the dreams were too vivid and weird, that I gave up trying to close my eyes.

So I did something incredibly stupid and called Vivienne.

She had got me this muggle thing called a 'cellphone'. You could buy wizard-based ones now, which were _way _better than the original ones made my muggles. These phones could work irrespective of the amount of magic in the air. I was a bit skeptic about it at first, but Vivienne was right. They were useful. In any case, I hardly used it. But this seemed like the thing to do.

She answered after a long time, saying sleepily, "Hello?"

"Hey, Vi. It's me."

"Dany?" she immediately spoke clearer. I hated being called Dany, it was a painful reminder of things I would rather forget, but I allowed Vivienne. I allowed her a lot of things, because, well. It wasn't _her _fault she had dementors for parents.

"Yeah. Are you asleep?" _Stupid question_.

"Surprisingly, yes," she replied sarcastically.

"Sorry." Although, in hindsight, I probably didn't sound particularly sorry.

"Is something wrong? What happened?"

"Not really. I don't know. I couldn't sleep."

"So you called me?" She sounded so damn happy. I should call her more.

"You're the only sane person I know as of now."

"So you're calling me at two am because you can't sleep. It's Angela, isn't it?"

I gave her less credit that she deserved. "Sort of."

"Do you like her?"

"Sort of."

"Does she make you happy?"

"Merlin, yes, Vi."

"Is she a good person?"

"She's heavenly."

"Does she like you?"

"I doubt it, but sometimes I think she does."

"Then the choice is easy, Dany."

"What choice? There's no _choice _involved."

"If there was no choice to make, you wouldn't have called. Don't play dumb. Let me sleep."

I half wanted to keep her on line, but what she said made some sort of sense to me, even if I didn't want to say it. "Yeah. Cool. Goodnight."

But she was fast asleep before that.

So I just threw on some clothes and apparated to the Ministry, and pretended to work, and then I fell asleep on the couch.

When she knocked at seven thirty and she came in, everything Vivienne said had a kind of ringing clarity to it. Merlin, how could I _not _like her? When every time I saw her, everything else seemed to fade in comparison? When I found _everything _about her so fucking beautiful and wonderful and _MERLIN _I was turning into a sap. So then I said inane things to myself like, "It's just physical." "Shag her and get it out of your system." But none of it seemed right.

And now I found myself in this situation.

Jealous, that's what I was. Jealous, with so sound logic or proof to base my jealousy on. But then again, I wasn't blind. If Blake and Angela had...no. No fucking way. I couldn't go there. If I did, I would drive myself crazy just _thinking_. Not only was I insanely jealous, I was downright pissed off because Angela did not deserve to be shouted at like that. How dare he. _I've _never even been that sarcastic, or mean. And it made me want to re arrange his face.

I didn't _really _need Blake, in all honesty. My brain had constructed a ploy to bring him in and decide whether or not he had hooked up with Angela last night.

Then I asked myself; if he did, what are you going to do about it?

My first answer was; _Curse him_.

This was not a healthy line of thought, so I had to put my wand away when he came in, to prevent myself from ending up in Azkaban.

"You called."

And there it was; that ugly, sickening thought of him with her, touching her, making her laugh, and god damn it, it was difficult not to whip out the wand I had so intelligently placed in the drawer two inches away from my arm.

"Yeah," I said, and then I made up some stupid excuse, that I can't even remember; and gave him something to do.

And then while we were working, it just slipped out of my mouth. I couldn't help it. But then again, I could have kept shut if I wanted to. But I didn't want to, because I was jealous, and I have never _had _to be jealous before.

"You should be a little more discreet, Blake. Especially when you plan to be fucking around with new employees."

He stilled momentarily.

"Excuse me?"

Then the words kept tumbling out. _Stop_, I told myself, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to curse him into oblivion, for some entirely non-founded reason, and it just...it just...

"How many cups of tea did you have before you decided to do away with chivalry and shag her against the nearest do-able surface?"

"That's none of your business," he snapped, eyes burning.

"It is when you distract her. What was it, your place or hers? Or better yet, neither? Never struck me as much of a gentleman."

"You sound jealous."

"That's irrelevant."

He smirked then. "Why? You sore because she shagged me instead of you?"

"I'm sore because evidently last night did not go as planned and you ended up upsetting her, and then shouting at her."

"I didn't—"

"If you don't know how to please a lady, Blake, it's not her fault."

That's when he punched me. Right across my jaw. It hurt, and I tasted blood. But I was angrier than hurt.

Right then, if this is where this is going. If he wanted a fight, he was going to get a fight.

He was massaging his knuckles, glaring at me, when I punched him back, smashing my knuckles against his cheekbone.

It felt good to see that cut, and the blood. It felt _so damn good_.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Both of us turned around together.

* * *

><p><em>Angela POV<em>

When I walked back in, I came right in time to see Daniel land a staggering punch to Ryan. He stumbled a bit, and the cut on his right cheekbone was bleeding.

"What the fuck is going on?" I shrieked, cold trickling down my spine.

_Were they...were they _brawling_? Wait...was it...was it...was it over _ME?

I glared at Daniel to scream at him for punching Ryan, when I saw the blood tricking down his chin, from his split lip.

"Merlin," I whispered. "What are you doing?"

"I'm fine, since you didn't ask," Ryan suddenly said, and I turned to him to justify myself, but he just scoffed at me and left.

"Jesus," I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair. I wanted to throw something at him, then something at Daniel, then bash both their heads together.

Then I turned to Daniel, with the vague intention of shouting at him again (although I didn't know what for) but the look in his eyes was so...weary, like he was scared of me, scared of how I would react, that all that anger just left me in a _whoosh _and all I could see was the scarlet dripping down the side of his mouth.

"You're hurt," I said stupidly.

"Yeah. It's nothing." He wiped away the blood with the back of his hand, but he winced, so it was probably painful.

"Wait," I took my wand out of the waistband of my jeans, and I stepped closer to him, placing it on his jaw.

_Shit_. _It was so painful, and so god damn good being this close to him_.

He was watching me intently, but the moment didn't last long. The jaw healed itself, then I siphoned off the blood with my wand.

"Thanks," he said softly, gingerly fingering the now unbroken skin.

"Yeah," I replied, putting the wand back in place.

Then we stared at each other for a few seconds, and I don't know if _he _felt it, but I did; like miles and miles of ocean between us, a gazillion unsaid words.

"So I spoke to Angus," I said, to get rid of that stifling feeling. I should have asked him why they were beating each other up, but I was afraid of the answer, so I tried to drive the conversation and the atmosphere back to normalcy.

"So you did." His tone went back to usual; brusque, short, business-like. But right now, in those jeans that hung from the perfect place on those hips, and that loose shirt, he looked like less like an Auror and more like a teenager.

"He says he can't tell us, only show us."

He rolled his eyes, but turned around to grab his leather jacket all the same. "Pretentious bastard," he muttered under his breath. "I suppose it's time go, then. Not that I'm surprised. Come along."

"You're...taking me?"

For the first time ever, he smiled. And it was an actual smile, like he was _happy_. "Not to be rude or anything, Miss. Woods, but you have a remarkable tendency to disregard authority. So, correct me if I'm wrong- you'll hardly listen if I don't allow you. So, come along."

I smiled back at him.

* * *

><p>Contrary to my belief that Angus had been inhumanely changed to a wall or something, he had been kept quite comfortably in an unused office, albeit one with a great deal of protective charms to prevent him from getting out.<p>

He glared at the both of us when we stepped in. He had taken off that trench coat, so he looked even skinnier; in a black t-shirt and black jeans; the fingerless gloves still on his hand. His pale blonde hair was tied back in a loose pony tail; and he was in desperate need of a shave. I wondered if he could just change his skin too.

"So. You're here. Will I be allowed to get out of this shit hole now?" he spat.

Daniel snorted. "Be thankful—"

"You're not in Azkaban," I finished, raising an eyebrow.

He scowled.

"So. Angus. Time to fulfil your end of the promise." Daniel walked over to him, pulled a chair from the desk, and sat down in front of him. I caught myself admiring those graceful movements again. _Ugh. STOP. It's only going to hurt_.

That sobered me up.

"I _told _you," Angus muttered. "It's much better if I show you."

"Obviously," Daniel said. "But forgive me if I have trust issues."

"Give us some background," I insisted, catching Daniel's drift, and walking up to stand behind his chair.

I fingered the edge of the chair, only slightly brushing Daniel's thick hair.

Angus huffed. "Fine. We'll have to apparate, though."

"Angus. Get on with it."

He nodded. "It's a place called Griphook's hollow. Have you heard of it?"

"Griphook. The name sounds familiar. Woods, have you—"

"No, you probably haven't," Angus interrupted. "When Potter was alive, before he killed Voldemort, Griphook was the name of the goblin who tricked him and took the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. Although goblins maintain that he wasn't the one who was 'tricked'; that he had made a deal with Griphook that he never meant to honor. Doxy shit, of course; we know the real story. We've heard it a dozen times. In any case, Griphook eventually took the sword claiming it was goblin property, or something like that. I don't know what happened then, because as we know the sword is in Ministry hands. In any case, the village was named after him, in his honor."

"When you say village—" I started.

"I mean one that is entirely inhabited by goblins."

"And you think Narvark is there?" Daniel asked in disbelief. "It sounds like the most obvious possibility."

"Which is why no one will care to look. And I'm sure he's there."

"A village inhabited entirely by goblins," Daniel repeated, his voice sounding hollow.

I groaned. "We're going to die horrific deaths, aren't we?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: DUH DUH DUN. What's going to happen in Griphook's Landing? Did you like that plot twist? The angst? Hahaha. Okay, you won't have to wait too much for the next chapter, it'll be up by today, or tomorrow. **

**But I would really love it if you reviewed, because it's the soul benefit I get from writing this. I spend my own time churning out this story just for you guys, so a little appreciation or constructive criticism always makes my day!**

**Until later.**

**See you in a bit.**

**Cheers!**


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